Made a Fortune, and Counted It
by Standbackufools
Summary: AU. Unbeknownst to Regina, there's a stipulation of her casting the curse: its maker has the ability to decide and change where and how everyone ends up, not the caster. Which means that the current mayor of Storybrooke is decidedly not Regina Mills.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Made a Fortune, and Counted It

Rating: K+ for now

Summary: AU. Unbeknownst to the Evil Queen, there's a small stipulation of her casting the curse: its maker is the one who decides where and how everyone ends up, not the caster. Which means that the mayor of Storybrooke is decidedly not Regina Mills.

A/N: This chapter mirrors the first episode rather closely, so rather than write out the scenes which we all know happened, certain events have been merely alluded to. I hope this does not make the chapter hard to understand. Enjoy.

* * *

Against the protests of her recently re-discovered son, Emma Swan pulled her little yellow bug up to quite probably the largest house in Storybrooke. The light of her headlights gleamed and reflected back off of the 108 on the door of the immense, white mansion.

Emma gaped, and turned back to her s- ...to the kid. "You live here?" Henry just shrugged, grumpily. Still in awe of the house, Emma just shook her head at him, and turned off the car. Really, if ...the kid lived here, and seemed well-fed and well-dressed and provided for, it was all she'd ever wanted for him. More than she'd ever had, certainly. "Come on, then," she said, nudging his shoulder.

As soon as the doors of her car shut (slammed, in Henry's case), the door of the mansion opened. A man in a dark leather jacket with a slightly scraggly-looking beard came out. She blinked, confused. He certainly didn't look like a Mayor. Then she saw the Sheriff's badge gleaming on his jacket. That made a bit more sense.

"It's him!" the sheriff exclaimed, looking back over his shoulder to inside the house. Henry's adoptive parent (she assumed) came out a few seconds afterward, walking slowly, and then stopped just at the door to the house.

She expected, she realized, for the kid to be swept into a teary-eyed hug and squeezed tightly. That didn't happen, and Emma found herself oddly disappointed.

Instead, his parent merely looked at him, and Emma wished the expression on that face could have in any way been described as concern rather than anger. "Where have you been, boy?" Came the question, lilting and sounding vaguely disinterested.

Emma couldn't really blame the kid for just glaring before rushing past into the house. "I found my _real_ mom!" he shouted, before disappearing up the stairs.

There was a beat, and Emma felt eyes descend on her. Uncomfortable, she shifted under the scrutiny, her hands slipping into the pockets of her jacket automatically.

The Sheriff glanced to the other two people, and cleared his throat. "I'll just... go check on him." And he went off into the house as well.

Emma felt oddly like she'd been left alone with a shark. Dark eyes ran over her and then neared as their owner approached, still at the same leisurely pace. "You're Henry's birth-mother?"

She felt like she was being sized-up, and could only nod, oddly tongue-tied. Realizing this was the part where she was supposed to introduce herself, she swallowed and shrugged sheepishly. "Emma Swan."

The corners of the shark's lips lifted in a polite but terse smile, the brow slightly furrowed in thought. "I'm Henry's father," he finally said, as if it wasn't obvious, "Mayor Gold."

* * *

An awkward silence descended.

Emma certainly didn't know what to say. Strangely, when the shrink they'd met in town had told her Henry was the mayor's son, she'd expected... well, someone very different than the man before her. Only slightly leaning on his cane, Mr. Gold continued to look at her, that same little smile on his face. "Well, Miss Swan," he finally said, his accent becoming much more obvious the more he spoke. "it appears I owe you a debt of gratitude for returning my wayward boy." A beat, and he turned slightly on his cane, a now-empty hand gesturing inside the large house. "Won't you come in?"

Really, really wishing she could say no and just high-tail it back to Boston, Emma knew that she should at least explain what had happened. The last thing she needed was for Mayor Gold to take it into his head that she'd tried to kidnap his son. "Sure," she said awkwardly.

If their meeting was awkward, the resulting conversation was more so. Gold insisted on having the Sheriff be present, which only put Emma on the defensive as she explained how it had most definitely been Henry's choice to seek _her_ out, not the other way around. The Sheriff- Graham, she learned- seemed to accept this explanation early on. Gold needed more convincing.

As she went through the whole thing again, she only became more and more aggravated. Gold revealed little to nothing about himself or his relationship with Henry, which frankly, Emma felt odd. It was almost as if, now the kid was back, Gold didn't really give a damn about him. She found herself wondering why he'd chosen to adopt him in the first place, and was left overall with a sense of unease.

Finally, after the third re-telling and several reassurances from Graham, Gold seemed satisfied. "Well, Miss Swan, I don't think it fair of me to keep you from returning home any longer. It's a long drive back to Boston."

More than relieved, Emma stood up a bit too quickly, but she was desperate to be out of there, and realized with a start that this was probably how Henry had felt.

Looking concerned, Graham blinked and turned to the Mayor. "...It's very late," he began. "And Miss Swan has had a long day." He looked back at Emma, kindness in his eyes. "Maybe you should sleep before heading home? There's a bed and breakfast in the main squ-"

"No," Gold refuted before Emma could reply. "I'm afraid the inn has no rooms available." He didn't even bother to look at Graham, who quickly dropped the subject, almost hanging his head like a scolded dog.

Surprised, she stared at him. At them both. She would have refused the offer anyway, of course, wanting very much to just head back to her life and forget this day had ever happened. But the same combative streak that made her a great bail-bondsperson rose up in her like a tide. She very much did not appreciate Gold making that decision for her. But this wasn't her town, and certainly wasn't her fight. Glaring down at him from her standing position, she turned back to Graham. "Thanks," she said with a little smile. He'd been kind to her. "But I really should just get going."

Gold nodded with a pleased and slightly superior-looking smile that Emma wished she could just wipe off his face. "Then let's not keep you." He rose from the chair he'd been using as a throne, and gathered his cane, ushering them both towards the door.

When she'd reached it, Emma smiled to Graham alone and said goodbye. The sheriff smiled at her, and she bet he'd have offered to walk her to her car if Gold hadn't been there, too. With another glare that could probably have wilted a flower, Emma walked past the mayor without a word, and headed to her car. Before getting in, she glanced at the upper level of the house, and saw Henry watching her from the window. She was tempted to wave, but a sudden lump rose in her throat, and her eyes moved back to the form of his father waiting on the porch. So she didn't. The exhaust of her bug flattened the grass behind it as it roared to life and then disappeared into the night.

She was biting the inside of her cheek the entire way out of town, trying desperately not to think of her son or his life. She'd only just noticed the book of fairy tales he'd left casually on the seat of her car when the wolf ran out in front of her. The car swerved, the wolf ran off, and then the sharp, shooting pain of her head was all she knew until blackness mercifully descended.

* * *

Waking up in the jail cell was unexpected, but at least a situation she was familiar with. Save for the throbbing of her head and the fact that she was still locked inside, she almost would have enjoyed the chat with Graham. Which is only part of the reason she frowned when Mr. Gold came in to tell him 'that woman' had run off with his son.

Seeing Emma, he paused, and looked mildly surprised. "Miss Swan," he nodded. "I was under the impression you'd left my town." The 'with my son' went unspoken, and Emma could see the wheels turning in his head.

His town. Interesting. Emma shrugged, "I have a pretty solid alibi." It was worth the pounding in her head, she decided, just to see that look on his face.

"Yes, well," Gold turned his attention back to the sheriff. "My son is still missing." It seemed interesting to Emma to note that his voice seemed far less concerned now that he knew Emma hadn't stolen Henry.

"Let me help you," she blurted out before she could think better of it.

Gold and Graham both turned to her. Graham looked hopeful. Gold was unreadable.

* * *

Bent over her son's computer, Emma felt more like herself than she had the entire time she'd been in this damn town. It almost made up for the fact that she was effectively spying on her own kid. And though she still didn't approve, now that she'd seen a glimpse of his life, she much more understood why he'd felt the need to run away. Twice.

The 'Who's Your Momma' website blinked into existence on the screen, and she felt a glimmer of triumph. At least now she knew how Henry had tracked her down. Resourceful of him, and the triumph became a much more unusual feeling of pride. It was a website she'd tried in the past, too. Though it appeared Henry had much more success with it.

"Henry has a credit card?" she questioned, and typed out a new command into the keyboard, not really waiting for an answer.

Gold's voice: "Don't be absurd." He wasn't even watching her. He was standing near the window, using his cane to hold back the curtains as he watched his town. His attention seemed focused on a clock.

Emma shook her head, and looked back to the screen. "Well, he used one." Striking a few more keys, she hunted down the transaction report and waited for the information to appear. "Name on the card:... Regina Mills." A beat, and beside her, Graham glanced at Gold with an expression of what could almost have been described as fear. Emma raised an eyebrow, and turned to look at Gold as well. He'd looked away from the window, his cane back on the floor as he leaned on it.

"Who's Regina Mills?" she probed.

The name itself seemed to cause a snarl to appear on Gold's lips. He looked past her, to Graham, who was already rising from his crouch beside the computer. Emma's arm reached out and held him, stopping him. "Who's Regina Mills?" she asked again.

Gold seemed to turn his attention to her fully then, and he looked, really, looked at her. The way he'd looked last night. This time, when she felt his eyes on her, she met them, and waited, not letting Graham go until she got an answer.

She got two.

"...Henry's mother," from Graham.

And at the same time: "The town whore."


	2. Inconsistent, Consistently

_A/N: The response to this story has been amazing! Thank you to everyone who's followed, favorited, or reviewed- it means a great deal to me. I'm really enjoying writing this one, so I'm glad to see so many people interested in it, and can only hope that interest continues down the way. This is going to be my longest Once story thus far; I've already plotted out to at least ten chapters, with no end in sight. So enjoy, lovely readers!_

_~M_

**II**

Title: Inconsistent, Consistently

* * *

Firmly, Gold rapped on the door with the head of his cane. Emma shifted uncomfortably next to him, and wished once again that Graham hadn't been dismissed- ordered, rather- back to the station. Gold was a lot more directly annoying without someone else there to act as a buffer.

He was silent at the moment, which she found both welcome and profoundly irritating. She'd have liked to know a bit more about Henry's mother before coming to her home... office... whatever this was. More than the hate-filled utterance of "the town whore," anyway. A title she refused to believe, because clearly, there was a story between this Regina Mills and the mayor that she didn't know just yet. She could only assume they'd been together, adopted Henry together, and then as with many of her own foster parents, things had gone south.

Gold knocked again, and waited. There was no answer.

Emma sighed, tugging a hand through her hair. "She's obviously not here."

"Oh, she's _here,_ Miss Swan," Gold replied through slightly gritted teeth, and banged again.

Emma glanced at him, trying to judge his expression. She saw only irritation and a twinge of hate, with the slightly bemused, 'I-know-more-than-you' undercurrents that Gold just seemed to exude naturally. When she could read no more from him, she looked around them instead. The house stood by itself at the very edge of the woods, the sole occupant of the lonely dirt road that led to it. It was a small house, obviously built much earlier than most of the rest of the ones she'd seen in Storybrooke, but it appeared in relatively good condition. The yard, at least, was impeccably maintained.

She glanced at Gold again. He was continuing his pattern of knock, wait, and knock again. His face had taken on the countenance of patience. She got the feeling Gold was a man who wasn't afraid to plan in the long-term, to wait to get what he wanted, as long as he got it.

Emma hated patience. So when the next round of knocking ended, she swatted Gold's cane out of the way and pounded on the door with her fist. "Madame Mills! Open up!"

Gold actually chuckled and glanced at her, nothing but amusement in his eyes and slight smile. Leaving Emma to frown at his sudden mirth and wonder to herself why the hell she'd automatically said 'madame.'

There was a loud, obviously irritated groan from within, followed by what sounded like a faint whimper, but finally after another few seconds, the door opened. And Gold's satisfied little smirk flicked from Emma to the woman now standing before them. "Ah, finally. Good morning, Regina."

Emma's first glimpse contained only a pair of black pumps. And she then realized that 'madame' may have been entirely accurate. As may Gold's more colorful name. Her eyes traveled up, past the long, fantastically-toned legs in said pumps, past the faint scraps of black and red lace that made up one of the sexiest lingerie ensembles she'd ever seen. and not the kind of 'lingerie' meant for sleepwear. These were obviously higher in quality than anything Emma'd ever seen even at the most risque stripclub she'd been to. No, these were definitely ...well, 'work' clothes. Her eyes gaze finally managed to tear itself away from the olive skin of breasts thrust up by the lacy corset to rest on the slightly flushed face framed by shoulder-length dark hair glaring back at them. Not that she could really blame her, Emma conceded. If she'd been interrupted in the middle of... well,_ that,_ she'd been annoyed to no end, too.

Seeing who was bothering her, the dark-haired woman sighed in exasperation, and leaned her hand against the door frame. The act simply oozed sex appeal, but Emma had to wonder if that wasn't the clothes or the heels, and just the woman's natural state.

"Gold." Her voice was hard and contained no small amount of its own authority. Her gaze flashed over to Emma, questioning and demanding. To Emma, who made it her business to read people's expressions, it was obvious the other woman was both wondering who she was and why she was with Gold, much less why they were both darkening her door. It was an uncomfortable look, but Emma forced herself to return it. She'd never really been much of the type to back down. Regina looked away first, not in retreat, Emma knew, but in defense; Gold was the larger, more immediate threat. "I'm with a client."

The mayor's head tilted slightly to the side, his expression becoming something bordering on bored. "Fascinating," he quipped, toying with the end of his cane. "I don't remember asking. Get rid of them."

Regina's expression hardened even more, the protest building on the tip of her tongue. A single look from Gold was enough to make her hesitate. She was waiting for something, and he was waiting to do it. Or say it? Emma couldn't be sure. Finally, Regina's eyes narrowed, looking calculatingly at Gold first, then Emma. "Two minutes," she stated flatly, and shut the door in their faces before he could demand otherwise.

In the stunned silence that followed, Emma blinked, then blinked again. The image of Regina Mills in her leaving-nothing-to-the-imagination outfit burned behind her eyelids, and she expelled a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Hesitantly, she cleared her throat, eyes still glued to the door. "So...Henry's mother actually _is-_"

"A very complicated woman," Gold interrupted, entirely too amused, and shot her a pointed look. Emma resisted the urge to gulp, and her mind flashed to wonder what the hell it must have been like when those two had actually been together. Because, clearly, they had been. They spent the next few minutes in silence, and Emma's mouth remained slightly agape as her brain fought to process anything beyond black lingerie and heels, silently ticking off the seconds in her head.

Precisely one hundred and thirteen of them later, the door opened again, and Emma found herself both relieved and slightly disappointed to see that the other woman had donned a robe. She took up her former position, leaning against the doorway. All that was missing, Emma thought, was for her to light up a cigarette, but both hands and lungs remained empty.

"Well?"she demanded instead, arching a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. Her attention seemed equally divided between the two of them, eyes shifting from one to the other.

Gold clicked his tongue, chastising her in an extremely patronizing and condescending fashion. "Manners, Regina. Aren't you going to invite us in?"

Without missing a beat, Regina's arms crossed in front of her chest, the gesture both defensive and slightly bored. "I'm not in the habit of letting strangers into my home," she countered with a pointed glance at Emma. _Or you, when I can help it, _she was obviously thinking, but did not say.

Dark eyes glowered over him, but Gold didn't even bat an eye. "Ah yes, of course. Regina Mills, Emma Swan. Emma Swan, Regina Mills. Now invite us inside." He gestured to each in turn, and before she could even begin the argument he knew was coming, he smiled nastily. "Please."

Regina flinched visibly, jaw clenching. She glared at the mayor, but slowly, very slowly, moved aside to allow them through the door. As Emma entered, a flash of motion caught her eye, and she glanced towards it just in time to catch a glimpse of dark hair streaked with red dashing across the back side of the house towards an equally red car. Blinking, she filed the piece of information away for later, and stepped inside the house. Regina closed the door behind her.

* * *

If the house looked outdated from the outside, the interior made up for it. Everything inside was modern- all clean lines and stark contrast, the furniture well-used and older-looking without being shabby. There wasn't much in the way of space, but the whole house was a little larger than some apartments Emma had had. Regina led them into the living room, where she sank into a well-used but intimidating looking leather chair, leaving a couch for the two of them. Gold sat down nimbly for a guy with a cane, raising an eyebrow at his 'host.'

Emma elected to stand. Regina's eyes fell over her again for half an instant, and she itched to turn away from it. She didn't, though her throat went dry until dark eyes finally slid back to the form of the mayor.

She sighed. "What do you want, Gold?" There was an air about her that was completely dismissive, as if all of this was beneath her, and she reached for a cup of something beside her chair as she waited for a response.

A small question rose in the back of her mind, but Emma forced it back down. Why the mayor's ex referred to him by his last name was certainly not her business. Emma felt more than saw Gold turn her way, as if giving her a cue. Exhaling slowly, her arms crossed in front of her chest. "It's about Henry," she began. "We need to know where he is."

Regina blinked. Whatever question she'd been expecting, it certainly wasn't that one. "Henry?"she echoed. Her voice took on a hitch that hadn't been there before, a flash of what Emma might actually call concern flickering across her face. But before she could analyze it further, it was gone, replaced by still more anger, this time accusatory in tone, and Emma had to wonder if she'd imagined it. Calmly, Regina replaced the cup on the table without touching its contents. "At school, I should hope." She was glaring openly at Gold now, an unspoken threat of 'what the hell have you done now, you bastard' unmistakeably radiating from her eyes.

"No, actually, he's run off." Gold said almost flippantly, the corner of his mouth raised in an almost-smile. "But then I'm sure you know that."

"He _what_?" For the first time, the cold ice-bitch routine slipped completely from Regina's face, genuine shock and concern taking their place. "...Where is he?"

The sheer amount of ...care in her voice was shocking. Emma had assumed that like so many of her own foster experiences, neither of Henry's parents really felt anything for him, but perhaps she'd jumped too quickly to that assumption. At least, she hoped she had. She wanted Henry to have at least one parent who loved him. She opened her mouth to reply, to explain the situation, but Gold beat her to it. Again.

"Come off it, Regina," He was twisting his cane in his hands, as if he needed something to do with them. "Didn't you give him your credit card to find his birth-mother?"

"...Did I do _what_?" Rising, Regina practically flew from her chair, reaching, not for the purse that lay slightly hidden near the door, but for Gold. A breath away from actually touching him, something seemed to hold her back- an unseen force. Gold just smiled at her; an unpleasant, entirely too smug smile.

She glared again, the moment stretching along with the tension until finally, she broke first, moving to rifle though the contents in search of her credit card. It wasn't there, of course, though quite a number of perfectly stacked and organized bills slid out of hiding. "...Clever boy," she whispered to neither of them, but the small twinge of pride in her voice was unmistakeable.

But that wasn't what caught Emma's attention. She noted, instead, that Regina's was an honest reaction- perhaps the first she'd really seen from either of Henry's 'parents,' apart from that twinge of concern. Emma sighed. "...You don't know anything about this, do you?" She didn't even need to ask the question, not with her superpower. She did anyway, just to eat up some time for her to consider the next step. There went that lead.

Regina turned her attention up to the blonde again, brow furrowed. "I'm sorry, who the hell are you?"

Mouth falling open, the blonde hesitated, her thinking derailed at the question. "...I-"

"The woman he ran off to find," Gold explained dismissively with a wave of his hand, as if it was both unimportant and the most obvious thing in the world.

It only took a second for the pieces to fall into place, and Regina's eyes opened wide, turning to look at Emma with new-found interest and confusion."...You're Henry's _birth-mother_?"

Emma swallowed, suddenly more nervous with Regina than she ever had been with just Mr. Gold, and shrugged awkwardly. "Hi."

Regina looked stricken. Swallowing, she uncrossed her legs and slowly, very slowly, rose from her chair as regally as her name implied, coming to a halt a few inches in front of Gold's still-seated form. "_What did you do?_" she hissed, her nostrils flaring.

He simply stared back. "Regina," Gold began again, more tersely. "I'd like an honest, simple answer. _Please_. Did you give Henry your credit card so he could find her?

Red-painted nails bit deeply into her own palms, the knuckles of her hands growing white as Regina clenched and unclenched her hands. "Of. Course. Not!" she managed to hiss out. Then: "Why the hell would I enable a ten-year-old to go running off to god knows where to find someone he's never met?"

"Boston," Emma corrected quietly. "He went to Boston."

Dark eyes flashed to her for a second, and the stricken look was long gone now, she noted. Now, there was nothing but a quickly building rage lighting a fire behind dark eyes. Regina whirled on Gold, and Emma half-expected to see flames shooting out of her nostrils. "_**My **_son was in _Boston_- missing for an entire day- and you didn't bother to let me know?"

Gold gave a dramatic sigh, and tapped his cane on the floor. "This is getting us nowhere. Miss Swan," he glanced at Emma expectantly. "When you find my boy, be a dear and let me know. I have a town to run." He rose from the couch without caring that two women were now glaring at him."Regina," he tipped his head almost pleasantly, as if daring her to challenge his leaving. "Always a pleasure." And with nothing else, he strode out the door as if he owned it.

The two women looked after him in stunned silence. A silence which continued until the ignition of Gold's car pulled them out of it. And as he pulled away, Emma suddenly remembered that he'd driven, and now Emma had no ride back into the main town.

_Well, hell._

But rather than run after him, Emma stayed silent, her mouth slightly agape. She was thinking far too hard and far too quickly, trying to peice together the life her son must have and then getting angry at herself for doing so. Regina cleared her throat to get her attention, and slowly, the blonde took in a ragged breath, and looked back to her son's adopted mother. "So he's... um..."

"Complicated," Regina supplied for her and sighed as well, though hers had far more of an undercurrent of irritation. Her arms crossed in front of her stomach, hugging herself almost defensively, as if the very presence of Gold having been in her house was something dangerous. And maybe it was. But then Regina's expression changed, turning back into ice. This time, though, it was directed at _her._ And Emma's mind whirled at the sudden realization: She was the threat now_. _

"Fortunately, Miss Swan," Regina continued, "I know my son far better than he does. If I need your assistance-" and the look in her eyes indicated she most definitely did _not- _"I'll let you know." She began to usher Emma to the door without further comment.

Surprised to have been suddenly approached and then dismissed by a menacing woman in skimpy lace, Emma actually stepped back a few feet before stopping just inside the door. "Wait... you know where Henry is?"

Regina pursed her lips, her hand rising to forcibly remove Emma from her house. Emma complied, and Regina looked almost pensively at her once she'd actually stepped outside her door. "At his castle, I imagine," she breathed quietly, and then shut the door in Emma's face.

"...Henry has a castle?" Sighing, Emma ran a hand through her hair, staring in utter confusion at the door and at the enigma of a woman who was behind it. "What the fuck was that?" she asked no one, and shook her head.

No wonder Henry had issues.


	3. The Only Thing with Persistence

**III**

Title: The Only Thing with Persistence

_A/N: Sorry for the length of time between updates. This chapter's a little bit longer than previous ones, if that redeems me at all. This also now makes the second of my Swan Queen stories in which I've referenced Star Wars. I am not even sorry._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

Abandoned. In a town she did not know, with no way of getting back to her car other than her own two feet. Emma scrubbed at her face with her hands, and fought the urge to break something. She doubted Madame Mills would appreciate finding one of her ceramic flowerpots shattered on the walk, no matter how wonderful the few seconds of post-destructive rage would feel. Sighing loud enough that it almost sounded like a frustrated scream, Emma just shook out her head, and resolved that she would have to walk. There was only one road to Regina's house, after all; it wasn't like she'd get lost.

And just as she took the first step off of the front porch, the distinct rumble of thunder pierced the silence around her, and the sky opened in a sudden downpour. The kind of downpour that instantly floods walkways and saturates through jeans and wifebeaters in mere seconds. And then Emma did scream.

"Really?" She glared up at the sky, as if daring it to continue so obviously pissing her off. It did so. Her second shout was drowned by another spectacularly loud burst of thunder. Defeated, she huddled back under the small covered porch, knowing she'd have to wait it out. She'd only brought the one pair of boots, after all, and there was no way in hell she'd be driving back to Boston in soaked-through leather.

Maybe it was better this way, anyway. She really didn't want to just give up on finding Henry just because his mother- and whatever else Regina Mills may have been, she _was _still Henry's mother- had told her to go. Emma Swan didn't give up on finding her targets. It wasn't the kind of person she was. She ran from everything else, but not her work. Not this time, anyway. She was connected to this kid. He'd been a part of her, once. Like hell she wasn't going to see this through.

She was just about to start banging loudly on the door and demand for Regina to let her come with her when the door in question suddenly opened. Regina stepped out, and Emma had to take pains to wipe the rainwater spray out of her eyes to make sure she was seeing clearly. Save for the face and hair, the woman before her seemed, at first glance, dramatically different than the one she'd been introduced to earlier.

Gone was the lingerie, the legs bare but for stockings, the small glimpses of lace amidst so much glorious skin. Henry's mother was now (sadly) completely covered, wearing a grey rain jacket that fell to mid-thigh, mostly hiding a black turtleneck, of all things. Emma had to fight down another feeling of disappointment. She was still wearing heels, Emma noted with amusement, but these were boots, probably ankle-length, though it was impossible to tell beneath the wide-legged brown pants. But no matter how much or how little she was wearing, it was obvious Regina exuded the same sense of sex appeal, power and 'don't fuck with me' attitude. Emma got the feeling she still did so when wearing nothing at all. And damn, was _that_ a picture she really didn't need floating around her mind at the moment. She was supposed to be angry with her, after all.

When she finally seemed to noticing her, Regina did a double take, and frowned at her icily. "I thought I made it abundantly clear your help was unnecessary, Miss Swan." Her voice was oddly flat, but still perfectly audible over the din of the storm.

Rolling her eyes, Emma didn't even bother craning her neck to look up at her. "You did. Got it, thanks," Emma muttered, pulling the lapels of her jacket closer around herself. Even zipped all the way up, the spray of the storm was still getting to her. "Just waiting for the rain to let up a bit before I walk back to town." She knew a ride into town would be out of the question, so she didn't ask. She had to find another way of getting the older woman to let her help find Henry. "Don't suppose you'd point me in the direction of the impound lot?" First step of manipulating people: let them think they're getting what they want.

Regina bristled, glancing around as Emma began speaking, apparently just now noticing that Emma did not have a vehicle stashed anywhere. "Why would I-" And then the darker woman stopped, her head tilting slightly to the side. Something Emma couldn't quite place flashed in her eyes- an emotion so fleeting it was impossible to determine. "Your car was impounded?" Regina's voice was just the tiny bit softer, perhaps less annoyed on a microscopic level.

Emma chose this moment to finally get up, hands instantly finding her pockets. "That's generally what happens when you spend the night in jail."

"Why were you-" Regina began, but shook her head, her hand raising as if to clear the question from the air. "Never mind. I don't have time for this, Miss Swan." She turned, locking the door behind her, and began to simply brush by the blonde as if she wasn't there.

Emma detested being dismissed more than almost anything in the world. She'd spent her entire childhood being overlooked, shoved out of the way, or flat out ignored. Never again. Her face hardened. Time to bring out the big guns. "If Henry is at his... castle," Emma only hesitated a little on the word, "are you going to call his father?" Second step: hit them where it hurts.

Success. Regina whirled on her, eyes blazing with such ferocity that Emma almost wanted to step back. But she held firm, meeting Regina's gaze as the older woman practically spat at her: "His _what?"_

She didn't back down, posture almost threatening as she took a step closer. "Mr. Gold. Are you going to call Mr. Gold?"

"And why the hell would I do that, Miss Swan?" Regina's hands slid into her pockets, a gesture which managed to bespeak both nonchalance and protection. She tossed her head, moisture from the still-pounding rain beginning to mist her hair. "Don't let this morning's conversation fool you, dear. Gold could hardly give a damn about Henry on a good day." Her voice towards the end sounded almost unbearably bitter.

Tilting her head to the side, Emma took one more step, too close for comfort, really. But she refused to let this woman think she had any power over her. Gaze level with Regina's, she asked the question that had been on her mind since she first met the Mayor. "Then why the hell does he have custody?" Third step: give no ground.

Emma knew the signs of having breached a painful subject all too easily: Regina's eyes closed and then reopened quickly. Her lip curled, and when the older woman spoke again, her voice was lower than normal; dark and angry as the storm above them. "...Because he knew I wanted him."

And without needing to be told anything else, several pieces finally clicked into place. Emma could almost picture the scene in the courtroom, (god knows she'd been in enough) almost hear the exchange that had to have taken place. Regina, arguing tooth and nail for custody of her son, fighting with every considerable weapon she had. And Gold, letting her do it, letting her think she was winning, while all throughout the divorce proceedings he'd kept his cards hidden until the end, springing his influence on the court and snatching away the only thing Regina had wanted right from under her nose. Leaving her powerless to do anything about it. And Regina Mills, she could already tell, detested being powerless.

Shaking her head, Emma sighed, and looked almost pityingly at the other woman. "He really does control this town, huh?" she whispered.

A scowl flashed on Regina's features, and she couldn't tell if it was from her words or from her perceptions. It melted quickly, replaced by, oddly, a smirk. The older woman fished in her purse, pulling out her keys once again and remotely unlocking the door before beginning to head towards it. "Get in."

The words passed by Emma's ear, and she couldn't help but think the rain was playing tricks on her. She hadn't gotten through all the Steps yet. "...Wait, what?"

Opening the door of the older black muscle car, Regina got in the driver's seat before glaring back at the woman still huddled under her porch. "Do you really want to _walk _to the impound lot, dear? It's on the way to the castle," she yelled over the rainstorm.

Hesitantly, Emma neared the car, water drenching her hair almost instantly, but she couldn't make her stunned feet move any faster. "Well, no, but- ...why are you suddenly helping me?"

Regina only smiled. "Just get in the car, Miss Swan."

She did.

The drive was spent in silence, and Emma was almost glad. Though a tiny part of her almost... wanted them to argue the entire way. The rain seemed to let up as they drove, and in very little time at all they arrived at the drying impound, which was, Emma learned, less of a lot and more of a parking space outside the local mechanic/towing company. The sight of her dependable little yellow bug, even _with _the annoying boot on its wheel, filled her with something very close to satisfaction.

"You drive an old Volkswagon beetle?" Regina asked, eyebrow arching as she put her own old muscle car in 'park.' "You're braver than I thought."

"Yeah, yeah, thanks, Princess Leia," Emma grumbled, unbuttoning her seat quickly. She'd heard all the insults people could throw about her little deathtrap, but she drove it anyway. It was hers. And she was more than ready to get the hell out of _this_ car, find Henry, and then get the hell out of the town.

A cocked eyebrow and an amused smile was the only response as Regina released her own belt and stepped out of the car.

Emma's brow furrowed, slightly thrown by that action, and she quickly got out to follow the older woman. "You're... coming in?"

"Absolutely," Regina answered enigmatically, and held the door to the office open for the blonde.

"Uh... okay."

She had no idea why Regina had insisted on coming in. While Emma had demanded the return of her car from the mechanic- Michael, she learned- Regina merely hung back, peering through the glass from the tiny office into the garage itself, only looking over every so often with a pointed glare in her eyes.

She also seemed to make Michael nervous. So much so that when he went to get the keys for the boot, Emma turned and asked none-too-politely if Regina might want to wait outside. To her ever-growing confusion, the older woman acquiesced.

When Emma finally left the office to head toward her freshly de-booted car, Regina was still outside waiting. She blinked, bewildered. "He, uh, waived the fee."

Regina merely nodded, turning back to look at the owner through the dirtied windows, and gave the mechanic a smile. "Of course he did." Emma's look of confusion only intensified, and Regina's smirk only grew. "You went in with _me,_ dear."

Confusion still reigned, until Emma put two and two together. Her eyes widened. "...He's one of your ...clients?" Emma asked, hoping she was guessing correctly and not about to severely offend the other woman. Not that she'd normally mind so much, but Regina _had_ just saved her a few hundred dollars... that kind of thing was big in her book.

She needn't have worried; Regina only flashed her that same smile she'd given when she told Emma to get in her car. "Now that you're fully equipped to leave _my_ town, I'm going to get _my _son now, Miss Swan. Enjoy the drive back to Boston." And with nothing more, the brunette moved to climb back in her car.

Emma bit her lip to keep from arguing. What the hell had all that been about?And then her own voice resounded back in her head: _'He really does control this town, doesn't he?'_

Her eyes widened.

Power.

Regina was not without it, in this town.

She didn't have time to consider it, though. Regina was dismissing her again. She wanted, desperately, to have a reason to call her back, to refuse to let her find Henry without her. She never gave up on anything easily. And she was having trouble thinking of a reason. With a sigh, she walked towards her own vehicle and pulled her keys out of her pocket. And then she saw it: Henry's book, still on her passenger seat. "...You gotta be kidding me." Grinning, she grabbed the book, and ran after Regina.

She caught her before she'd started to drive away, and met dark eyes through the window of the car. Regina glared at her, and for a moment, she didn't think she'd roll the window down. But she did. "Henry left this in my car." Emma's voice was almost too excited.

If Regina recognized the book, she didn't outwardly show it, though her gaze may have rested on it for a few long seconds before she glanced back at the blonde, extending her hand for it through the window. "...I'll return it to him, then. ...Thank you."

"Wait! If...if Henry is there... Let me say goodbye to him?" Emma made her eyes impossibly big.

Regina's eyelids lowered. "And why the hell should I allow that?"

"...Please?"

Whether it was the word itself, or if the sad puppy-dog face she pulled somehow reminded the dark-haired woman of Henry, Emma never knew. But she saw anger melt away into that same almost-pained expression cross her face, before Regina gave a brief nod, and inclined her head towards the passenger seat.

The drive was, again, silent. Emma couldn't help wonder where exactly this 'castle' of Henry's was. She also couldn't help study the book in her arms a little more intently. She cracked it open while Regina drove, flipping through and glancing idly at the pictures. It was a beautiful old book, really. Despite its obvious age, the pictures were still vibrant, the lines crisp as if they'd been etched not long ago at all. It was easy to see why Henry was so taken with it. Even she found herself getting engrossed in studying the details, the pads of her fingers almost reverently tracing over the faces of Snow White and her Prince Charming. Her parents, if Henry was to be believed, and she shook her head at the idea, and turned the page to look at the next picture.

She gasped. It was Regina. Or... no. The hair was too long, the makeup too severe. But she could definitely see where the comparison could be made. It was no wonder that Henry-

"...That's _the_ book, isn't it?"

"Hmm?" Emma snapped the book shut, looking almost guilty as her reverie was broken.

"Henry's book," Regina elaborated, an interested look in her eyes, though they never left the road. She was smiling just a little, now. "The one that convinced him all of Storybrooke is cursed."

"...I guess so," said Emma. She wasn't sure what, but something was telling her that Regina somehow wasn't really supposed to know about the book. Her arms curled around it protectively.

A low chuckle. "No need to worry, Miss Swan. I'm not going to take it away."

Emma's lips pursed, her brow furrowing as she turned more towards the driver. But before she could say anything, the car pulled to a slow stop just in front of a greatly dilapidated old wooden playground. In the shape of a castle.

A relieved sigh escaped her lips. There, with his back to them, seated on the damp wood but perfectly dry himself, was Henry.

Regina's breath caught in her throat at the sight of him, and Emma had to wonder how long it had been since she'd actually seen her son. And she felt again like she was encroaching. Regina clearly loved her son. And here she was, demanding a chance to say goodbye to a kid she barely knew, during time that the brunette so desperately wanted... needed with her son.

There was an awkward silence, and finally Regina tore her gaze away from her son long enough to quietly order: "Two minutes, Miss Swan."

Emma had to fight the sense of deja-vu. That had been one of the first things Regina had said to her. Instead, she just nodded and got out of the car, understanding a bit more now exactly what she'd asked of the other woman by pleading to accompany her. "...Thank you."

She didn't run to him, but she wanted to. "Hey kid."

He looked up when he saw her, but didn't say anything immediately. "Hey," he finally muttered.

"Left your book in my car," she stated obviously. When he didn't take it, she just set it down next to him, and then moved to sit on the other side. Crossing her arms as they sat in silence, Emma glanced back over at the dark car. The wind whipped around her head, and she turned back, looking not at Henry, but the waterfront.

They sat in silence for a few seconds, before Henry finally shifted uncomfortably and picked up the book, holding it to his chest. "Doesn't matter. You don't believe me about the curse anyway." He still wouldn't look at her. "You're leaving now, aren't you?"

Emma sighed. "Yeah, kid." She was realizing it herself, now. Henry already had a mother. One who loved him very much. Now that she'd found him, there was no reason for Emma to stay.

Henry tried his best to change her mind. "You know you're the only one who can break the curse," he began. "You're the _only_ one who can bring back the happy endings." His intensity remained the same as it had in her car the previous evening, though his voice was much quieter now. He clutched the book as if it were a security blanket.

"Kid-" she sighed. "Whose happy ending do you really want? Yours? Your Mom's?" She almost said more, but she shook her head. Every kid with separated parents probably went through a phase like this. Let him believe in happy endings, if it made him happy. God knows he needed something to hope for. Her gaze moved to the car and the woman inside it. Her brain was still in overdrive, trying to come up with an explanation for her actions at the mechanic's while simultaneously counting down. One minute and eight seconds left. "You know …your Mom was really worried about you."

"Mom?" Henry's seemed almost surprised, and turned to look over his shoulder to look at her, too. An unreadable expression fell over his face. "No, she wasn't," he muttered, but didn't look back at Emma.

Emma was watching his face carefully, catching how his teeth worried at his lower lip. He did feel slightly guilty for running away then. Good. "Listen, kid-" she breathed at last, shaking her head.

"My name's Henry!" he hissed, whipping his head back to her. "I know you're trying hard not to like me, but you do. I can tell. ...You just don't believe me."

"Kid," she repeated, ignoring his little glare that was, she thought, obviously inspired by Regina. And ignoring the talk about the curse, too. "She _was_ worried about you. Practically tore your dad's head off when he told her you were missing."

"He's not my dad!" This time the fire in his tone was _definitely_ reminiscent of Regina. "He's evil! He made the curse!"

Emma ran a hand through her hair, trying not to get exasperated. "Henry, there is no curse. Mr. Gold is just the mayor."

Henry's lower lip trembled, and he looked down to the book in his arms. "He doesn't care about me. He only took me to hurt Mom."

It was Emma's turn to look away. "Yeah," she whispered quietly. "I know."

They sat in silence for another few seconds, and Emma knew her time was running short. Regina was already opening the door to her car. "...Listen, kid," she began.

"Henry." Regina's voice was quiet, layered so heavily with emotions Emma couldn't begin to sort any one of them out.

The ten-year-old's focus was now on putting his book in his bookbag, and Emma could tell he was fighting an impulse to get up and run, but which way, she couldn't be sure. "Just stay in town for a few days," he pleaded quietly, zipping his bag back up. "A week! Just... just see that I'm right about the curse, okay?"

Emma sighed, and closed her eyes. "A week, huh?" When she heard feet pounding on wood, she opened her eyes in alarm, hoping the kid hadn't bolted again. He wasn't running. He was walking, slowly, resignedly, towards Regina.

Regina ran the last few feet to him, heels be damned, and dropped down onto one knee, hugging her son fiercely. But it was Emma who felt the impact, forced aback as Henry's arms stayed resolutely at his sides. He refused to hug her back. His fists clenched and unclenched, though, Emma noted. Clearly, part of him still wanted to.

Swallowing roughly, Emma watched as Regina held him, smoothing his hair, dropping kisses on the crown of his head. With a lump rising in her throat, Emma turned away. It was long since time for her to leave.

A dangerous crunch of rubber on gravel, then, and a gleam of wet, black metal as another car pulled up beside mother and child. Emma's heart lurched up to her throat, and she quickly moved to cross the distance. She knew that car.

Regina knew it, too. She rose from her crouch. Where seconds before only love and concern had crossed her face, now only hate and ice remained. In a slow shift of her heels, she moved in front of her son, protecting him.

Emma smoothly stepped up beside her, which caused a slight shift in Regina's posture; she was shielding Henry from her, too. But the blonde wasn't surprised when Regina didn't even bother throwing a questioning glance her way. Her attention was once again on the bigger threat.

Out of the car, cane in his hand and a satisfied smile on his face, stepped Mr. Gold.


	4. She Forced my Hand

**IV.**

Title: She Forced my Hand

_A/N: Hello, gentle readers. Once again, I want to apologize for the length of time between updates. I generally try to update at least one of my stories a week, and I've been trying to switch off between this one and Black Lace. Though now that I finally have the internet at my house again, updates should hopefully come faster. I very much appreciate you staying with me, and hope you enjoy this one. If you feel so inclined, please drop me a line._

_~M  
_

* * *

For a long, long moment, no one really moved much. A flash of a throat as each heavy breath was drawn, the lowering of eyelids, the flaring of nostrils. But the only things that did much shifting at all were the eyes.

Regina's were the sole exception- hers remained resolutely focused on the mayor.

Emma's flashed between glaring at Gold, looking a bit uncertainly at Regina, and sneaking a glance at Henry every so often. Henry's were flickering back and forth between his mother- both of his mothers- and his father. As for Gold... his quickly took in the picture before him, a slow, a nasty smile settling over his lips. Finally, his gaze settled, meeting Regina's.

From his place behind his mother, Henry watched as the mayor's lips parted, watched them begin to form a word, and he knew which one it would be. Regina knew it as well, and her eyes widened and then drew back down in anger, her mouth opening just a little in hate and protest. And so before Gold could say it, before any word was spoken at all, Henry turned and ran, backpack swinging behind him.

Almost in slow-motion, both Emma and Regina felt more than saw him go. Regina responded faster, whipping around, ignoring Gold now. "Henry!" she shouted, and hurried after him despite her heels trying to slip on the wet, loose stones. Emma looked about to hurry after them, but she paused just before taking a step. Gold hadn't moved, instead staring at the retreating forms behind her. Uncertain, Emma finally remained, her body turned slightly to look, but she made sure to keep herself as a barrier between.

She could see that Henry didn't stop running until he was well out of hearing range, his form just barely visible to Emma's eyes. But she could tell when he slowed, and when his mother caught up with him. And she could see that Regina knelt down on the wet grass without hesitation or even concern that her pants would probably get ruined, and swept him into her arms. From the distance, Emma couldn't tell if Henry was allowing it or returning it.

"Touching, isn't it?" came a voice behind her. Emma tore herself away from watching and glanced back towards the mayor, frowning. It didn't appear Gold was going to pursue. He didn't seem all that perturbed at all, really, Emma noted. Instead, his attention was only on _her._ Shifting so that she now stood more firmly between him and the direction that Henry had Regina had run off in, she squared her jawline and her shoulders, and met it. She was _not_ intimidated by Storybrooke's mayor, and had no problem at all in staring him down.

"Emma," Gold finally said, breaking the long silence and drawing out her name, as if enjoying the way it tasted on his lips. "I'm honestly a little surprised to see you still here."

Emma crossed her arms in front of her chest. Gold had chosen his words deliberately, she knew. 'Here' meaning 'still in my town' while at the same time meaning 'standing in front of me.' "Yeah, well," she replied, her own words coming less quickly than his, but with more feeling. "I said I'd find Henry."

His head cocked slightly to one side. "And so you have, Miss Swan. Good job." The patronizing wasn't not lost on Emma. "Now don't let me keep you."

Her eyelids lowered. She detested being talked down to almost as much as she did being dismissed. She'd been in town for a little less than a full twenty-four hours and had already gotten both in spades, from both sides of Henry's adopted parents. Both of whom also seemed intent to get her to leave as soon as she could. She wondered how long it had been since Gold and Regina had agreed on anything. Maybe she should feel touched. Or maybe the universe was trying to tell her something. "You know, for a guy whose kid has now run from him three times in two days, you don't seem overly concerned, Mr. Mayor."

Gold shrugged, leaning slightly on his cane. "Sooner or later, he has to come back, dearie. He knows that, and so does she." His chin tilted forward, gesturing beyond Emma, at Regina. "Ah," he grinned. "Here they come now."

Warily, Emma raised her eyebrow at Gold as she slowly turned her head the slightest amount she could to verify he was telling the truth. And he was.

Trudging begrudgingly back up the hill came Henry, his backback cradled in front of him like a barrier. One of Regina's hands was on his shoulder. The other held his book of fairy tales casually beneath her arm. When they neared, Regina's hand clenched a little tighter on his shoulder, though not enough to hurt. Just enough to remind him she was there. As if her presence was enough to protect him from Gold.

The mayor's smile was all teeth. "Time to go home, boy," was all he said, and turned away. Expecting Henry to follow without question, Emma noted.

He did not. In fact, Henry didn't so much as budge, and the squaring of his stance made Emma entirely too aware of the face that he really_ was _her son. "I want to stay with Mom," he said pointedly. Feeling a lump rise in her throat at the stubbornness of his tone, Emma wanted nothing more than to reassure him that he could. The desire confused her. She barely knew Henry at all, and here she found herself caught up in a custody battle for him.

Gold paused, his cane making a crunch against the gravel as he pivoted back around. "Oh, I'm sure you do. But your _mother,"_ and he sneered at the word, "is far too busy ...entertaining to have you underfoot, boy." He didn't look at Henry, but the expression he shot Regina was nasty.

"Hey!" Emma blurted as soon as the words left his mouth. "That's completely uncalled for." Whatever Regina did- however she earned her living- it was obvious that she cared for Henry a great deal. And even if Emma didn't necessarily agree with it, she respected that. It was what she'd wanted for him, after all.

"The truth is always called for," Gold quipped.

If Emma was going to say more, she was overrun by the other woman, who shot her a glare firmly stating that she did _not _need Emma's help in standing up to Gold. "I'm _never_ too busy for Henry. I'm not _you_." She hugged the boy closer to her, arm wrapping around his middle. The level of vitriol in her voice was enough to give Emma chills.

With his cane hanging almost blithely from his fingers, Gold moved closer to Regina, and then closer still, standing directly in front of her face. "No, dearie. You're something much worse."

Nearly trapped between them, his bookbag no longer proving suitable protection, Henry met Emma's eyes, wordlessly pleading with her. And she took the hint. She'd just about had her fill of all this anyway. "Enough!" she growled, causing both adults to glance towards her. "I didn't come here from Boston to play babysitter to two fully-grown people! You," she pointed to Gold. "Back off." Her finger then moved to Regina. "You, stop smothering the kid. He can barely breathe."

Regina looked down, and dropped her hand with a quickly stifled gasp. The book still held beneath her other arm trembled, as if she was going to drop it. But instead she dropped to her knees again, inspecting her done to ensure she hadn't done any lasting damage. "I'm fine, Mom," he said quietly, shoving both hands in the pockets of his jacket. Regina's expression seemed to wilt a little.

Taking a half-step back, Gold finally just laughed, twirling his cane in his hands. "Quite right, Miss Swan." He grinned unpleasantly. "By court order, she's allowed one weekend with him per month. And that has passed. So he goes with me."

"The hell he does!" Regina spat, still on the ground, but moving Henry behind her crouching form. Even kneeling on the ground, Regina was every inch the mother bear. Emma was impressed.

But Gold was not. "Your protests are meaningless, Regina." She rose, trying to be more of an obstacle, and he gave a long-suffering sigh. "We both know how this ends. Now step aside." His teeth gleamed in the weak sunlight after the rainstorm, a final word perched on the tip of his tongue.

With parted lips, Regina glared back as defiantly as she could, using her slight height advantage over the mayor as an attempt at intimidation. But Emma could see her hands were trembling. "Don't. Do. This," she hissed, the barest hint of a hitch coming into her voice.

Gold was unimpressed, looking up at her with his same little smile, and extended his hand. "Let me take the boy, Regina. Please."

A strangled sound, half curse, half sob, burst from Regina's lips. Her hands dropped from her son immediately, almost, Emma noted with a frown, as if it were involuntary.

"What the-" Emma growled, and stepped up to the mayor. "Henry obviously doesn't-"

"Miss Swan." Gold was irritated now, breathing out through his nose as if Emma were severely trying his patience. "You have no authority here. And if you did, you'd find that the law is clearly on my side. _I _am Henry's legal guardian. Not Regina, and certainly not you. Now since you have nothing keeping you here, I firmly suggest you head back to Boston before you find yourself back in our jail cell."

Emma only half-listened to his little diatribe, rolling her eyes. She was much more interested in the sight of Regina looking down at her son, pain in her eyes, and slowly smoothing a strand of her son's hair away from his face. "I'm sorry, Henry," she whispered while Gold was in the middle of his threats.

Turning to look at her, the boy clung to her middle in as close to a hug as Emma had seen him give, and then nodded. "...I know." His eyes were blank, looking down at the book clutched under his mother's arm, which Regina seemed resolutely opposed to returning to him. Henry didn't protest.

Gold finished talking with a click of his cane on the gravel, and without another word, the mayor tugged Henry out of Regina's grasp and began to lead him toward the car. Regina let him do so with obvious reluctance, turning away as if unable to watch. About two steps in, the boy wrenched himself free and petulantly got into the backseat himself, slamming the door behind him.

Sighing, the mayor turned to get in the driver's seat.

Regina was looking close to breaking, and Emma could see her fingernails digging into her palms. "Dammit, Gold!" Regina almost screamed in fury and no small amount of pain, "He doesn't want you!"

He didn't even bother to look at her. "He doesn't want you either, dearie. That's why he ran off to Boston in the first place. You aren't the mother he wants." He did turn then, but it wasn't Regina that his pointed gaze fell upon.

Emma's mouth opened, closed, and then opened again as he looked at her. Her eyes widened. She wanted to say something, do something, but knew that in this case, Gold had the right of the law. It sucked, but there wasn't anything she could do. Gold inclined his head at her, and finally got into his car and started the engine. Emma found her attention riveted to the backseat, where Henry was staring at her. He, like his mother still kneeling on the ground, looked like he was desperately trying not to cry. 'Please,' he mouthed at her through the window. 'One week.'

Though Emma cursed herself for doing it, her eyes locked with his, and she gave a tiny nod. Henry smiled a little, and she felt something in her heart break loose. A knot rose in her throat as she watched the car begin to pull away, and Emma knew then that she really, really should have left when she had the chance.

The window rolled down, revealing Gold's triumphant smirk as he regarded the two women. "Have a pleasant drive back to Boston, dearie," he smirked. Emma said nothing, merely staring back at him. At her sides her hands clenched into fists.

But Gold wasn't quite finished yet. "Oh, and Regina?" His tone was flippant, as if it hardly mattered to him, "I think it's time you and I arranged another of our little 'chats.' Come to my office tomorrow afternoon at three." And his gaze hardened. "Please."

Emma frowned. More than one thing about that statement sent alarm bells ringing in her head. Surprised and confused and oddly almost concerned, she glanced down at Regina.

Her concern, she noted, may have been with good reason. Regina looked as she was struggling not to be physically ill. She remained facing away from Gold, looking firmly at the ground. With her arms wrapped protectively around the book, her eyes closed, a single tear falling down her cheek, and she just gave a slow nod.

The car pulled away.

They spent a long moment in silence, the two of them. Regina wiped at her cheek with the back of her hand, seeming to use the time taking in deep breaths and re-centering herself.

But Gold's parting words were gnawing, and finally Emma couldn't help but ask: "'Chats?'" It didn't sound pleasant, whatever Gold was referring to, and it was obvious enough that this wouldn't be the first one.

Blinking, the brunette turned to her almost as if she'd completely forgotten Emma's presence. Idly, her fingers traced the lettering on the cover of the book of fairy tales still tucked under her arm. Catching herself, her hand instead moved to wipe at some stray grass on her knees, though Emma suspected it was done more as an excuse to do something with her hands. "...It doesn't concern you, Miss Swan."

There had been plenty of times when Regina had not looked at her, but for the first time, she actually seemed un_able _to meet Emma's eyes. Oddly, that was almost more off-putting than anything else. Which is perhaps why her next words flew out of her mouth before she could stop them. "If it concerns Henry, maybe it does."

Regina's chin rose immediately, suddenly able to meet her eyes again. She was furious. And Emma knew she'd overstepped something.

"...I-" Emma began, but she wasn't really sure what to say. "I'm sorry," she finally settled on. "That wasn't- …I know that has to be hard for you, and-"

"Stop right there," Regina bit. Her face darkened with fury, most of which probably wasn't meant for Emma, but ended up directed at her anyway. A hand raised in her direction. "You do _not_ get to pity me, Miss Swan. And you most _certainly _don't get to feel for Henry. You don't get to do anything. You signed those rights away when you gave _my_ son up for adoption."

"I wasn't trying to-"

"I don't care what you were trying to do! I don't care about-" Regina appeared to think of something, and stopped herself, taking a deep breath. And then another. "...I've wasted enough time here," she sighed raggedly, running a hand wet from the grass through her hair. "I have work to do."

Emma struggled to not reel as if she'd been physically struck. She'd been dismissed. Again. More than a little put off, Emma fought back the urge to just punch the other woman and finally just shook her head. Regina was upset, understandably so, perhaps, but she still wasn't worth this. "Yeah, well. Don't let me keep you." Great. Now she was sounding like Gold.

A flash of emotion crossed the brunette's face before it vanished again. Rolling her eyes, Emma just turned away and started walking. She really needed to get the hell out of this town.

"Miss Swan," Regina called hesitantly, causing her to glance back. One of Regina's arms was again stroking along the cover of the book. "...Don't you need a ride back to your car?" She raised an eyebrow, trying to mask the emotions that played over her face.

But Emma still knew they were there. "I'll walk," she spat stubbornly.

Another flash of... something, and then Regina just nodded blankly. "Suit yourself."

So Emma walked.

She walked for a long, long time, alone with her thoughts. Most of which focused on her biological son and the sad, pitiful look he'd given her as Gold's car had driven off with him in it. And the look of disgust in Regina's eyes as her son was taken away. She tried desperately to think of anything else, but her mind seemed stuck on a loop, veering off on tangents when she forced them to, but always coming around back to Henry. After what seemed like forever, she reached the main square of town. She looked up and across the town, noting the immense white home off to the side. She wondered if Henry was looking her way, too, and then cursed herself for doing it. She looked away, instead glancing at the clock. Still frozen in time, just as Henry said it had always been. Shaking her head, she sighed at his delusions. God knows she'd indulged in her own methods of escapism, as a kid and a teen. Hell, compared to some of the stuff she'd done, the curse thing was definitely more healthy in the long run.

Events from the past two days continued to roll around in her head as she walked on. She reached the mechanic in no time, climbed into her old, comforting, familiar bug, and started the engine.

How easy, she thought, would it be to just drive away from this damn town? To forget everything she'd seen as if none of it had ever happened, drive back to her tiny apartment in Boston, and pack up her few possessions and bolt again? …Incredibly easy. She was good at running; she'd done it countless times before. It was one of the only real constants in her life. Running, and a lack of personal connections when she stopped, which made it so much easier when she eventually ran again.

But today... she doubted it really _would _be so easy to forget today. Much as she hated it, she'd made a connection with her s- with the kid, she corrected. And she'd made him an agreement, even if it had been a silent nod to a pleading look. Another lump rose in her throat when she thought about breaking it.

...She couldn't.

She kept her eyes peeled as the bug began to drive down the main road. Graham had said something about a bed and breakfast. She considered finding someone to ask about it, but it became moot when she came to what was probably the only stoplight in town. Above, on a hanging sign proclaiming the name of the establishment to be "Granny's" was prominently displayed 'Vacancy.' Huh. Interesting, since the mayor had been so insistent there were none.

The bug went into 'park,' the keys went in her pocket, and she'd entered the place almost without thinking about any of it. At first, there was no one immediately visible. Only a faint aura of disuse. Apparently Storybrooke wasn't a big stop on the tourism map. No vacancies. Yeah, right.

After a minute, Emma heard voices above, and then two women came, bickering, down the stairs. One was older- obviously the 'Granny' of the establishment. The other... the other was familiar. Emma's brow furrowed, trying to place where she'd seen the young woman before.

A car light flashed from outside, causing Emma's reverie to shatter as her head automatically turned towards it. A red car was parked just out front. She'd seen it before, too. Slowly, her eyes moved back to the young woman, taking in the streaks of red in long, dark hair. Recognition dawned. This was the 'client' Gold had forced Regina to get rid of this morning. Before everything had really started.

She blinked. The argument had gone on without her. Something about the young woman sleeping her way up and down the Eastern seaboard. Before her face flushed any further, Emma tried to get their attention. "'Um... 'Scuse me? I'd um... like a room?"

Both women froze, turning to look at her like she'd suddenly sprouted a second head. "...Really?" incredulously asked the young one- 'Ruby,' according to the nametag on her too-revealing shirt.

Granny, however, burst into a huge grin. She hurried over to the counter excitedly. "Of course! How long will you be staying?"

Emma found her eyes drifting in the direction of the large white manor. She couldn't see it, but she didn't need to. Her kid was inside. "...A week."

From the ebullient, beaming smile she was given, she thought for sure Granny might have a heart attack or something. Rules and minutiae were explained in a blur of chipper babble and quick fire questions. What view did she want the room to have, would she be having guests, did she need more than one key? After Emma had answered them all and feeling slightly put off by all the pleased hyperness, she finally just gave Granny her credit card. After swiping it, Granny reached for an old-looking key with an elaborately decorated keyring.

"Welcome to Storybrooke."

* * *

Not far away in the very center of town, something shifted. Rusted gears, creaking with disuse, slowly began to remember their original purpose. The cogs tilted forwards, propelling the rest of the great machine into a slowly-building state of wakefulness. The minute hand ticked resolutely forward.

At his place fervently watching from the window in his room, Henry noticed, and he grinned widely, considering it a personal victory that the hands of the clock now read 8:16. Quickly, he fumbled with a walkie-talkie, switching it on and nearly dropping it with excitement when it crackled to life.

It was only a second or two before it beeped, indicating that it was switched on at the other end. "Well?"

Still grinning, Henry hissed through it as loudly as he dared: "She must have stayed; the clock's working again! Operation: Cobra is a go!"

A small pause in the cracking of the device, until finally the response came through: "...Excellent."


	5. Carved my Niche, Rags to Rich

**V.**

Title: Carved my Niche, Rags to Rich

**Trigger Warning: This chapter contains direct references to relationship abuse and rape. Consider yourself warned.**

_A/N: I am so, so sorry that this took so long. This chapter just DID NOT want to get written. It's extra long, so I hope that makes up for it? This chapter also marks the first time we leave Emma's direct point of view, and we jump around a bit here. I hope it doesn't get confusing. _

_A great big Thank You to those of you still reading this. I'm trying to build up some sort of buffer so this waiting thing doesn't happen again. A special thank you to my amazing fiancee, who never minds me hashing out details with her while I bite my nails in anguish trying to figure out where I'm going._

_Enjoy!_

_~M_

**_ooooooooooooooooooo_**_  
_

"This is your room," Ruby offered pleasantly. "Mine's just down the hall. You need anything, _anything_ at all, you just knock on my door," she smiled, a glimmer in her eye, and gestured to her room. "Second on the right, okay?"

Emma blinked. The way Ruby had inflected that second 'anything'... Had she just...? nah. It was the weirdness of the day, she told herself. Making her read into things. Ruby was just being friendly. Probably meant if she needed to know where the ice was, that sort of thing. "...Sure," she offered the young woman with a tired smile.

Ruby smiled back, and bid her goodnight. The extra swagger in her step as she sauntered off, Emma told herself, was probably just how Ruby was naturally.

Shaking her head at herself, Emma gave a sigh, and entered her room. Her boots were the first things to go, followed by socks, jeans and bra. The rest, she left on. Collapsing on the bed, she barely had enough presence of mind to pull the covers over herself before falling into a fitful, exhausted sleep.

It had been, after all, a weird ass day.

**_ooooooooooooooooooo_**_  
_

She woke to the sound of the clock striking the hour. For a tiny moment, she wasn't entirely sure of where she was. But the memories were not long in returning to her, and the frown lines gradually receded from their places on her forehead. The clock continued to strike. Even groggily pulling her pillow over her head wasn't enough to block out the damn bells. Groaning into her pillow, she turned onto her back, eyes squeezing closed in a fervent effort, though whether it was to fall back asleep or wish herself back to Boston, she didn't know.

God, would the stupid bells never shut up? You'd think there could only be so many numbers for a supposedly broken clock to chime... Wait... broken.

Emma sat up, her frown returning, and shoved the sheets off of her before moving, confusedly, to the window. Her room had an unimpeded view of the clock tower. As soon as she pulled the sheer curtains back, her gaze fell upon its hands. They'd moved. The clock was working again. Puzzled, she stood looking at it for several moments longer than really necessary, and then glanced down at the street. Several other people were in view, and some of them had paused to glance in the clock's direction, as surprised by it as she was. Others merely glanced at it before continuing to walk their dogs or open their shop windows. The extremely friendly Ruby was already out and about, setting out the 'open' sign in front of the diner next door. "Granny's," Emma muttered, shaking her head with a bemused smile. "Of course." The Granny in question bustled into view seconds later, arms laden with bags full of produce and fresh bread. Her stomach rumbled in response, reminding her that she hadn't really eaten anything other than a bear claw Graham had surreptitiously handed her the morning before. And that had been long before... everything else that had happened yesterday.

"Yeah, yeah," she griped to it, as if it would listen, and eyed the diner again with new eyes. That first problem of the day was easily solved, and she knew before long she'd be making an appearance. Hopefully Granny could actually cook. "After coffee," she continued to her stomach and headed to the small electric machine in the corner of her room. A few minutes later had her sipping the hot beverage eagerly, which seemed to placate her stomach enough to be silent for the moment. Hopefully long enough for her to decide on a game plan. She'd stayed in town for Henry's benefit, but when she actually stopped to think about it, she had no idea how to help him. And certainly no ideas on how to spend the week she'd agreed to stay in Storybrooke.

_Okay, Emma,_ she told herself. _Start with what you know. _But then that was sort of the problem. She really didn't know much about the kid at all, yet. Beyond the simple facts of: he's ten, obsessed with fairy tales to the point of delusion, and has a crappy home life. A niggling little voice in the back of her head wondered if, under the circumstances, he still had a better life than she could have offered, ten years ago. She took another sip of her coffee rather than admit to herself that he did.

Before she could dwell on it for very long, a rather determined knock sounded from the door. Blinking herself out of thoughts she'd been avoiding, Emma's brow crossed yet again. The only two people who knew for sure where she was, she'd seen already outside. Later, she would blame the confusion and the fact that she'd yet to finish her coffee on the fact that she failed to put on her pants before opening the door. Or maybe, that same niggling voice would tell her, she'd already had a guess as to who might be behind it.

Still holding only her life-sustaining mug of coffee, she opened the door warily.

Regina Mills glared back at her, hands empty and nostrils slightly flared. As Emma fully opened the door, the brunette gave an almost resigned sigh, as if she'd been hoping for some reaction to her knocking other than Emma opening the door.

A meticulously manicured hand rubbed against its brow, tiny stray brown hairs brushing against the tips of the fingers as Regina continued to glare. "What are you doing here, Miss Swan?"

Taking a moment for her brain to kick-start itself into gear, Emma desperately wanted to take another swig of her coffee, but did not. "...This is my room," she defended, frowning. "Shouldn't I be asking that?"

Regina entered the room without invitation, but that was really Emma's fault for giving her room to do so. Their arms brushed against one another, a shock of sensation to Emma's still sleep-muddled systems. Any protest about Regina invading her space was lost, neurons repeatedly firing on only two facts: Regina was now in her room. And Emma was still without pants. But running for them now would only show off her own insecurities and weaknesses, and she would not have them made evident. Not to Regina. Besides, some tiny part of her mind tried to rationalize, she'd already seen Regina three steps past indecent.

Regina, oblivious to Emma's thoughts, only shook her head, as if physically evading minor details like facts. Or that she'd entered the blonde's personal space. "Your presence in this town is unnecessary."

It was probably that mental fuzziness and the still processing-coffee that made Emma blurt out: "Henry doesn't think so." But no amount of caffeine deprivation could block out the flash of hurt that crossed over olive-skinned features before being impressively schooled away.

"_My _son," Regina began, teeth slightly gritted, "is ten, Miss Swan. His thoughts are not necessarily the cornerstones upon which adults should build their decisions. And frankly, your continued presence is only going to confuse him. And get his hopes up only to be crushed when you leave."

"You seem to be awfully preoccupied with my leaving, Regina."

"It's what you do, or so I've been informed," she pointed out, bending to remove a sheaf of papers from her purse and tossing them with a resounding flop onto the nearby desk. Emma barely had to glance to know it was all information about her, but she walked over anyway, flipping through the sheets with a deepening scowl. And no small sense of astonishment.

Change of address forms, job applications, newspaper clippings... even a piece or two of unforwarded mail from addresses two or three moves back. "It all comes down to the number seven," Regina finished with a smirk.

"Seven?" Emma repeated, still shuffling through papers, before her gaze finally rested once more on the smug grin of the older woman.

"The number of addresses you've had over the last decade."

Emma felt her fists beginning to clench tightly around whatever slip of paper was unfortunate enough to being in her hand at the time. "How the hell did you get all this so quickly?" she practically spat, stepping closer. Despite the fact that she was barefoot and Regina was wearing heels, her anger made her feel huge, and she almost seemed to loom over the brunette.

Either not threatened or unimpressed, Regina didn't move, allowing the irate blonde to come close enough that she could feel the heat of her breath against her cheek. "My sources aren't your concern, Miss Swan. Just as your reasons for running aren't mine. I'm certainly not judging you. All I ask is that you think about what's best for Henry."

"I just want to make sure he's okay."

Regina's eyes widened, her head shaking, disbelieving. "Of course he's not okay. He's living with a man who doesn't even attempt to understand him. Or his imagination. A man whose solution to Henry's retreat into fantasy is to throw him at a therapist twice a week." Regina's words became faster and louder, her anger growing, but Emma knew, as before, that she was not its intended recipient. Seeming to catch herself, Henry's mother took a breath and stopped herself, swallowing visibly. She took another breath, and then offered an entirely fake smile.

"Henry... has enough going on in his life right now. He doesn't need you confusing him. It's time for you to go."

Emma's coffee was forgotten now, her mind reeling. Regina had admitted that Henry wasn't okay. She'd not anticipated that, even though it was obvious to anyone who'd seen him interact with Gold at all. She blinked, belatedly realizing that a rebuttal of some sort was needed. "Or what?"

That same, saccharine smile was her first reply, though it fled away, replaced by a serious look that made the child in Emma want to run under the bed. "Don't underestimate me, dear." A nod of her head indicated the pile of papers. "I may not be mayor of this town, or the sheriff, but I think even you can see that I'm not without my resources. And you have no idea what I'm capable of."

Without waiting for any other response, Regina strode out the still-open door, leaving the papers behind her, still strewn about in a mess that was all too reminiscent of Emma's mind at the moment. She took an absent-minded sip of the cooling coffee, a processing kind of frown on her face as the last of the clicks of high-heels receded down the stairs and out the door.

**_ooooooooooooooooooo_**_  
_

It wasn't much later that Emma finally attempted to appease the growling of her stomach by heading (with pants) into the diner. A familiar-looking face stared at her from a newspaper that someone had abandoned at one of the booths. "Seriously?" she asked no one, and snatched up the offending paper, glancing at the headline. Something with her picture, drunk and that damn sign she'd hit... Swearing inwardly, she began thumbing through as she walked to the counter, taking a seat on the stool. Not a half-bad hack job, really, though many details of her past (and the whole thing about her being drunk when she hit the sign) were exaggerated.

She had to roll her eyes. Apparently Regina's 'resources' included an in at the local paper. Although upon closer inspection, Emma realized that the details the idiot writer _had _gotten right were different than what bits she'd seen in Regina's stack of paperwork. That was unsettling. Either Regina hadn't shared, or else... someone else had orchestrated the hack job.

An inordinately loud rumble of her stomach reminded her why she'd gone into the diner to begin with. Putting the paper and the unsettling questions it rose to the side for a moment, she looked up as Ruby came over to her, a mug in hand and a bright smile on her face.

"Certainly making yourself known," Ruby said with a nod to the paper, but winked to show she was teasing, and set the mug down. Emma stared at it for a half second before examining the contents more closely.

"What's this?" she asked. Ruby didn't answer, merely raised an eyebrow incredulously. The contents of the cup were obvious.

"Fine, I get it," the blonde grumbled, though she silently agreed it had been a dumb question. "Cocoa with cinnamon. But I didn't order it."

"I know."

Emma sighed, and pushed the cocoa back to the waitress. "Look, Ruby, I appreciate the gesture, and it was sweet of you, but I didn't come here to flirt."

The brunette raised her hands in innocence, the bar towel dangling from her fingers and brushing just above the surface of the counter. "Noted. But I didn't send it." She gave the blonde a quick once-over, but the glimmer in her eyes made it obvious her next words were only meant in jest- at least for now. "Not that I wouldn't, mind. You could totally be my type."

"Everyone is your type, Ruby," a voice sounded from a few stools down. The accented voice of the Sheriff was easy to recognize, even if Emma's responding glance hadn't revealed the shiny gold badge and jacket to make his identity obvious.

Ruby just laughed, and appeared as if she were actually thinking about it for a second, before she shook her head and made red-streaked locks shake around her shoulders. "In your dreams, Humbert."

A fine mist of cocoa sprayed over the counter from Emma's mouth. Wheezing and choking, the blonde quickly grabbed a handful of napkins in a frantic effort to keep the hot drink from staining her shirt.

Graham glared at her, then at Ruby. "Yes, it's a funny name, alright."

Moving in instantly with her bar towel, Ruby swooped in to clean up the mess. "Aww, Graham. You made Emma spill her drink." The young brunette was perhaps a little overzealous with her cleaning, Emma thought. Particularly when the hand on the towel came inches away from her completely cocoa-free breasts. Emma could only laugh and take the towel away to clean the rest herself. She didn't overly mind, and apparently Ruby hitting on people was nothing new.

Still shaking her head, Emma gave a resigned little shrug. "Maybe it's a sign I shouldn't drink it anyway. I still don't know who sent it."

"I did!" A chipper, young voice piped up from a booth just out of Emma's immediate line of sight. Turning, she slid off the stool as her biological son slung his bookbag over his shoulder, expression clearly that of the 'grown-ups are weird' variety.

"Henry? ...Don't you have school?"

The boy shrugged in clear repetition of Emma's earlier gesture. "Duh, I'm ten. Walk with me," he demanded. Emma had to wonder if her got that from her, or from Regina. Or... she shuddered to think of it, Gold.

An idea struck, thinking back to the paper and the name of the article's author. "...Hey, kid-"

"Henry!" the boy insisted.

"Henry, then. Do your mom or... dad know a Sidney Glass?"

The boy frowned at the 'dad,' and Emma couldn't blame him. But he looked a little curious when he answered. "The mirror? ...Yeah, Mr. Gold has meetings with him all the time. I dunno about Mom, though. Why?"

"No reason," Emma lied. Hopefully the kid hadn't inherited her superpower "...Why did you call him the mirror?" Changing the subject back to his interests. Always a good way to avoid questions.

Henry began to get excited, and she knew talk of his 'curse' was imminent. "It's who he is. From before the curse. Sidney _Glass. _Writes for the Daily _Mirror."_

"I don't follow, kid."

Henry rolled his eyes, and finally just gave a dramatic sigh and pulled his book out of his bag. Quickly, he flipped to a specific image, and tapped it with his finger. "The Evil Queen's looking glass."

Looking at the image, Emma did have to admit the reflected face looked a bit like the guy in the author's picture of the paper. If you added crazy amounts of eyeliner and a classic melodrama villain's mustache. "What, the 'mirror, mirror on the wall,' thing?"

"Exactly!"

Emma idly traced over the picture in the book, before allowing the kid to take it back and hide it once more in his bookbag. They resumed walking towards what she hoped was the direction of the school. She still looked a bit confused, and sighed, deciding to at least try to indulge the kid for a few minutes. "But kid, if he's the Evil Queen's mirror, why does he work with your da- with Gold? I thought the Evil Queen was your _mom_."

"She is!" Henry insisted, looking a little put-upon that he had to explain everything. "It's part of the curse. They can't remember who they are, so their lives here aren't... they don't make sense."

Two steps while Emma processed, and then she nodded as if in understanding. "...Right. So, for decades, people have been walking around Storybrooke with memories that don't make sense, because the town is cursed and kept them from remembering."

Henry beamed. "I knew you'd get it. That's why I had to find you. You're the only one who can break the curse."

"Because I'm the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming." A sigh fell from Emma's lips as she thought about all this. Henry seemed to realize she needed a minute, and they spent the rest of the walk in relative silence, the ambient level of noise increasing when they arrived outside the school. "Henry," Emma began slowly, and he smiled at her use of his name. "...Why did the Evil Queen curse everyone in the first place? If she's your mom... well, it doesn't seem like her life here is all that great."

Looking down at his feet, Henry was a while in answering. "...I don't think it went the way she planned. She didn't make the curse, Rumpelstiltskin did. She just... enacted it, I guess. It was supposed to be her happy ending." Another long pause, and then, almost too quiet for Emma to hear: "He didn't let it."

"'He?' Your dad?"

"He's not my dad!" Henry insisted, looking back up at her with determination. "He's Rumpelstiltskin! Even when they were together he wasn't my dad!"

Before Emma could say anything, the school bell interrupted, ringing in the ten minute warning for class. Henry glanced at the building over his shoulder, and then back at Emma. "I hafta go."

Emma just nodded, her brain puzzling over something, some detail that she couldn't quite put her finger on. "Right," she said, "I'll see you later, kid."

Henry openly beamed at that. "I knew you'd believe me!" he chirped, and ran towards the school.

"I never said I did!"

"Why else would you be here?" He yelled over his shoulder, and then disappeared into the building, leaving Emma alone. With more questions. And finally, as the final warning bell rang, she realized what had been bothering her earlier: Regina had taken the book last night. So how had Henry had it again this morning?

It was only one of many questions that was now rolling around in her head.

**_ooooooooooooooooooo_**_  
_

The rest of the day past in mostly a blur. She spent a little time just wandering around the town, getting a feel for where things were, how friendly the people were. The answer to that last one was largely: very. It was actually almost unsettling. Due to the newspaper, most people already seemed to know her name, stopping her in the street to look at her or, more frequently than not, to say 'hi' or even 'welcome.' Emma had to wonder if strangers were just that uncommon in this town that people were desperately welcoming, even to someone who had destroyed city property.

A few were almost familiar faces now. The sheriff seemed pleasant enough, eager to crack a joke about how her staying around was good for tourism, but bad for signage. Emma had to roll her eyes at that one. Ruby... was almost overly friendly, but she could deal with that. She imagined it was largely just that Emma was new. And Ruby seemed the type to enjoy newness.

She saw Henry's therapist again, too. Doctor Hopper. Running into him in the street as he stopped by the diner for lunch gave her an idea. She decided she'd pay his office a visit the next day. Today, she decided, was about the town itself. She found herself near the school again, and stopped on a bench to take a bit of a breather. For a small town, it was still big enough to get exhausted walking around exploring. Not that she was giving any real credence to this fairy tale thing, but since it was so important to Henry, it made sense to try to see what it was about these people that had him convinced they were storybook characters.

That book... she kept coming back to it. How the hell had Henry gotten the book back from Regina? Obviously, they must have seen one another sometime between her leaving the other woman at the park and Regina coming to her room this morning.

With a sigh, Emma rubbed her brow at the reminder. That visit had been... interesting, to say the least. But if Regina thought that threatening her was a way to get her to leave, she was sorely mistaken. Really, it only made Emma want to stay all the more.

And speaking of threats... it was odd, really. The one thing she'd expected to happen today, hadn't. She hadn't seen Mr. Gold.

He had to have known she was still in town; she wasn't exactly keeping her presence a secret.

As if on cue, the clock tower began to toll, marking the hour. Emma glanced up. Three o'clock. Time for Regina's chat with Mr. Gold. Oddly, she was surprised to be almost shuddering at the thought. She had no idea what happened during those chats, but from the brunette's reaction when Gold had said one was needed, it had been obvious that Regina did. And hadn't been looking forward to it. Emma found herself swallowing, her mouth suddenly dry.

...Maybe she should pre-empt the eventual threat and just go see the mayor herself.

A fine plan in theory, save for the fact that at that very moment, the school bell once again began to ring. Shortly thereafter, the area all around Emma exploded with activity as the doors opened and children came funneling out, rushing onto buses or into the cars of the waiting parents. That really should have been a clue that school was going to end soon, she mused, and shook her head at herself for having not noticed the cars line up. She must really be off.

But.. if school ended at three, and Regina had... been ordered, essentially, to Gold's office at that time... who was picking up Henry? Looking around for any familiar black cars and finding them lacking, Emma spotted Henry as he came meandering out the door and head off in the direction of the shore. Towards his castle. Like he knew he was on his own. Like he was used to it.

Quickly she got up to follow him.

"You must be Emma." A voice sounded as she passed, freezing her in her steps. A petite brunette with a pixie-cut approached her, smiling slightly. When Emma's hardened, slightly confused expression fell on her, the other woman's gaze immediately dropped, as if nervous, or unsure. "It's just... I saw you watching Henry," she continued, indicating the retreating form with a nod of her head, though her eyes never left her hands. She began twisting a ring on her finger. "He talked about you all day; I just figured..." she drifted off, taking a deep breath before speaking again. With what appeared to be great effort, she raised her eyes again. "I'm his teacher," she offered, sheepishly, realizing she'd forgotten that bit of information. "Mary Margaret."

"Emma Swan," the blonde replied, a little warily. It wasn't needed, she knew; the other woman had already identified her.

The teacher swallowed, almost nervously, but she spoke up again anyway. "You stayed in town. That meant a lot to him."

Emma nodded dumbly. "...I should go after him." She made to do so, and then hesitated, looking in the direction her biological son had gone and then back at his teacher. "...Is he always left alone after school?"

Mary Margaret shook her head. "His mother- that is, Regina-" Emma nodded to indicate she knew very well who she was talking about. "...Well, she picks him up on his days with her. She used to pick him up every day. And drop him off. Like clockwork. She'd give him a hug, adjust his hair... you know, the usual."

Emma felt a smile twitching at the corners of her lips. That was the sort of thing she'd always wanted as a kid. What she'd wanted for her son. But that smile fell quickly. "So what happened?"

"...The divorce. The mayor got custody, and... well, Henry's life got a lot more complicated." Mary Margaret looked away, the expression on her face looking as though she wished they were talking about anything else.

Running a hand through her hair, Emma shook her head, disbelieving. "Gold. How did he _get_ custody, anyway?"

"I don't... I'm... not really sure of the details; it was messy, but private. I only know Regina seemed pretty sure she would get it. And it seemed like the mayor would let her. But... well, I'm probably not the best person to ask."

"Right..." Emma said with a sigh, "I should... go after Henry. Thanks."

"Nice meeting you," the teacher said quietly as Emma turned to go.

"Yeah. Um... you, too." The blonde flashed a smile, and then turned, jogging off in the direction of Henry's castle.

**_ooooooooooooooooooo_**_  
_

Sure enough, the kid was there, sitting on the old wood, flipping through his storybook with a determined grin on his face.

"Hey kid," she called as she neared, and Henry's head jerked up, his face splitting into a huge grin.

"Emma!" He almost looked like he was going to fling himself at her, but paused, unsure. Probably to how she'd react.

With a small smile, she just pulled him into a hug which he happily returned. "How was school?" Best to begin to with easy things. The harder questions, the ones she wanted to ask, would come in a minute.

"Fine," he brushed off, but an excited note came into his voice, and Emma knew she was in for more fairy tale talk. "I've been trying to figure out how you're supposed to break the curse."

Emma took a seat next to him, glancing at the book as he began to flip to something. "Oh. Any ideas?"

"Not yet," he admitted, a little dejectedly.

Nodding, Emma picked the book up, moving it into the space between their laps so they could both look at it. A moment of quiet fell on them, Henry absorbed in the book, Emma, in her thoughts. "Henry,' she said after a long moment. "... how did you get the book back?" It had been bugging her all day. Maybe she could finally get some answers from the kid now.

He didn't say anything, just got a bit of a guilty look on his face and kicked his feet off the ground, flipping quickly to another page.

"You saw your mom, didn't you." It wasn't a question. "Some time during the night. Some time when Mr. Gold wasn't paying attention."

Henry closed the book with a snap, turning to her. "He never pays attention. Only when mom's around. To hurt her."

She had to take a minute with that one. It was the second time she'd heard Henry say something of the sort. And Regina had a meeting with Gold today. A meeting that apparently was semi-regular... it didn't bode well. "Why does he want to hurt your mom?"

"He's evil." Henry's voice was barely above a whisper.

"But I thought your mom was evil. She's the Evil Queen, right?" She nudged him with her shoulder, hoping to lighten the conversation while still getting more information. Hoping that by bringing up the curse again, Henry would be more forthcoming.

"Yeah," the kid admitted. "But he's worse."

**_ooooooooooooooooooo_**_  
_

_~Slightly earlier, in another part of town~_

Though she wanted little else than to skip this encounter entirely, Regina was seated in the mayor's waiting room shortly before three, a book she had no intention of actually reading held loosely in her hands as she pointedly ignored the sneaking stares of Gold's receptionist. The woman was watching her intently, of that Regina was sure. She felt eyes on her no matter how often she covertly glanced up and found the woman's attention seemingly elsewhere. She did not appreciate the scrutiny. Had it been any other time, she'd have pressed for confrontation. But she knew she was in for plenty of that as soon as Gold announced he was ready. So, for now, at least, she remained quiet, and let the secretary's furtive looks go on. She wasn't sure she was entirely ready for _that,_ anyway.

After what seemed like years, the phone on the small wooden desk chimed. Quietly, the woman answered it, picking up the receiver and listening intently for a few seconds. Regina took the opportunity to replace her book in her purse and take a fortifying breath. "Of course, Mr. Gold," she heard the receptionist say, sickeningly obedient, and then she hung up the receiver. "He'll see you now."

Regina didn't even bother to reply, merely rising from her chair slowly. Regally. As if she had all the time in the world. Swallowing down the bile that was already threatening to rise in her throat, she squared her shoulders and moved towards the immense wooden doors leading to Gold's office.

She was struck, as always when she had to come in here, on how very messy it all was. And dark. The curtains were drawn, nailed in place so little natural light ever entered. And the entirety of the office was overrun with an enormous assortment of knick-knacks and antiques, with very little rhyme or reason to what was placed where. Gold's sense of decoration, Regina had always thought, was horribly unprofessional. More akin to a hoarder's oversized basement hunting lodge than a mayor's office. She detested it.

Not that it really should have surprised her, considering how she felt about its owner... Seated behind an immense wooden desk, the surface of which was littered with ever more obscure objects hiding in and around various paperwork, Gold was just finishing signing his name to a document, adding a flourish beneath it.

Looking up at her, he smiled, though not out of any real pleasure at seeing her, she knew. "Ah, Regina," he acknowledged with a tilt of his head. "And how is the town whore doing today?"

"Gold," she mirrored his action, raising an eyebrow. "Let's just get this over with. What do you want?"

Rising from behind his desk, the mayor reached for his cane, dismissing her acknowledgment with a wave of his free hand. "You never did care much for pleasantries."

If she'd been the type, she'd have rolled her eyes at him. Instead, she put her purse down on one of his precious antiques, claiming a tiny square of space as her own. It made her feel a little better. "Why bother?" she spat out with a smile on her face. "We both know you don't actually care."

Gold watched her set her purse down with a thoughtful look, fully aware of why she was doing it. A slow, dark kind of smile spread itself over his face. He fully came around from behind his desk, stepping towards her with malicious intent. Both hands idly came to rest on the head of his cane. "... I think perhaps you need to be reminded of who owns this town, dearie. And you."

To her credit, Regina did not shrink back. She stood her ground, facing him down in a battle of wills they both knew she couldn't win. But she protested anyway, "You don't _own _me-"

"_Please_, Regina." Gold interrupted imperiously, head tilting to the side again. "Be quiet. And come here."

Her mouth snapped shut against her volition. Eyes going slightly wide, she nevertheless continued to glare at him, and then she moved. One step, two steps closer to him, until she was standing directly before him. His hand shot out to curl around her neck.

With a rough shove, he forced her down, splayed on top of the desk with his hand still on her throat. Ordered not to speak, she still fought- scratching her fingernails over his hand, kicking at him with her heels. After a particularly vicious kick, he hissed, pulling her head back and then slamming it down on the hard surface of the desk. Her lips parted in a silent hiss of pain. "Enough," Gold grunted, and then, almost as an afterthought: "Please."

Forced into stillness, Regina's body froze. Gold released her throat, moving his hand instead to travel a slow, torturous path down her stomach, finally coming to rest on a nylon-covered knee. He grinned with his finger brushed almost idly over the belt that held her garters. She wore nothing else beneath the skirt. "Much better," he clucked condescendingly. His hand began to rise.

Knowing what was coming- how could she not, he'd done it enough before- Regina's chest rose and fell with haggard, furious breaths, biting the inside of her cheek hard enough to draw blood. She would not give him the satisfaction of screaming.

"On your stomach, dear," he chuckled. "Please."

She complied, giving a small inward cry of relief that at least she wouldn't have to look at him. She felt a second hand join the first on her thighs, coming to the hem of her skirt and toying with it. She'd worn it on purpose today, and the garters, knowing this encounter would end this way. It always did. And she'd done this enough to know he wouldn't care if he destroyed her clothing in the process of achieving his goal. Or raise a hand to help her cover herself when it came time to leave, if he'd ruined her garments.

The hands left her a moment, and she took in a deep breath. From above and behind, she heard a rustle of fabric, the revolting hiss of a zipper parting, and her eyes closed. Gold clucked his tongue reproachfully. "Nothing to say, Regina? No pleading or curses? You can speak now, you know."

She didn't react beyond the obvious fury building in her eyes, the clenching of her fists as she felt him approach. "Do you honestly think you'll break me this way?" she finally sighed, little but vitriol in her voice.

"Of course not." He grinned, running both his hands over her hips now, slipping beneath the edge of her skirt and lifting it upwards and exposing her. "I'm not doing this to break you, dearie. I'm doing it because it's fun. Because I can." He chuckled darkly, running his hands freely over her skin before his nails began to dig in just a little. "I know _exactly_ how to break you, Regina. I have the only tool I need. He lives in my house."

Regina bit back a whimper, retreating as far inside herself as she knew how. It was a practiced maneuver- she'd done it throughout her marriage, and every other time since that Gold had demanded these 'chats.' Really, she had to wonder why he continued to do this... She would not react physically. She never did.

Gold only laughed, and then lunged for her.

**_ooooooooooooooooooo_**_  
_

She had no idea how long it actually lasted.

When it was over, when he was finally finished with her, she silently slid her clothing back into place. No sobs, no tears, not even a hateful curse. Only a deadly glare in his direction, before Regina squared her shoulders and grabbed her purse, walking brusquely out of the office with her head held high. Looking every inch the queen. And like a proper Queen should, she didn't even acknowledge when the secretary got up from her desk to hold the door open for her.

Gold followed her out of his inner office, silent for a long, long moment, the self-satisfied smirk slowly falling away from his face as if he could no longer expend the effort it took to hold there. He rubbed the bridge of his nose with two fingers as the door to his office shut and the secretary returned to her desk. Though she didn't sit down.

He moved to the immense window behind said desk- the only one he allowed to remain uncovered, since it was not in his immediate office. He took a few seconds to look over the city- his city- and the former Queen who was just now reentering the streets of it. "Well?" he asked, not evening bothering to look at his receptionist, though he was aware she had to know he was speaking to her. "I assume you were listening."

"I was." Her admission was flat and uncaring. There was no reaction to the acts he'd forced upon Regina, no look of horror at what she'd heard from the interior office the entire time she'd been listening.

It didn't even seem to bother her that he wasn't looking at her. She did not look at him, either. Both of their attentions were riveted to the woman who'd just left, watching Regina's retreating form as she heading down the street. Crossing her arms in front of her chest, the receptionist tilted her head to the side thoughtfully. "It's difficult to say, really. Regina can be a consummate actress, if she desires. But aside from the... emotional and physical stress you put her through, she had no reaction to seeing _me. _That alone makes me think she doesn't remember at all." She paused a moment, her voice raising in curiosity when she next spoke. "That _is _how we designed it. So that she wouldn't."

"I know that, dearie," Gold snapped, the base of his cane striking the floor in mild irritation.

"So why the sudden worry that she remembers?" She wasn't fazed, wasn't afraid of him. It was one of the few things she had in common with the woman who'd just left.

"...Never you mind."

Another long moment of silence as they watched. "If you're that concerned," the receptionist began, "you could always just ask her _politely._"

"I did. Two days ago. Her response was vague, like anyone else in the town. It doesn't seem like she remembers," he noted, still watching as Regina crossed the street below, looking for all the world as if nothing in his office had taken place. The thought made him chuckle. He wondered if she was heading home now. If, when she got there, she'd scrub herself raw in the shower in vague attempt to get the memory of his touch off of her skin. If, when she was clean, she'd sit on the floor of the shower and rock herself. She'd done it enough when they'd lived together at the mansion. After every time. "...But she's still driven to obey when I say 'please.'"

The aging brunette only shrugged. "Probably simply involuntary. The curse itself holds her to that agreement, but she might only think she feels compelled to comply simply because of the threat you pose to her _son._" The word was almost a curse in the woman's mouth. "You do ultimately control what befalls him. And for reasons I'll never understand, she does actually care about him."

"Yes, I know." Gold grinned, his voice a few octaves higher. He sounded almost giddy. "It makes her deliciously easy to manipulate. "

She gave an overly-dramatic sigh."I tried so hard to teach her, but no matter how painful the lesson, she never seems to learn." She clucked her tongue, shaking her head disapprovingly even as mirth danced behind dark eyes. For the first time, the secretary turned to look at him, a cold smile pulling at the corners of red-painted lips edged with wrinkles. "Love is weakness."


	6. But Only if Earned Will she Appreciate

_A/N: Sorry this has been a little while in coming. I kept getting such marvelous ideas for this chapter, and it actually ended up being about twice as long as I thought it would be. So enjoy that, gentle readers!_

_Much gratitude to my ingenious fiancee, who in addition to letting me talk ideas out with her, also came up with the _name_. You'll figure out to what as you read.  
_

_~M_

* * *

**V.**

**But Only if Earned Will She Appreciate**

* * *

It was pressing on six o'clock when tires finally crunched on gravel to announce the arrival of Gold's sleek, black Mercedes at the playground.

Henry's head snapped up in attention, frown reappearing on his face as the car slowed to a stop. "Here," he told Emma, closing the book with an audible 'snap' and then pressing it into her hands. "You take it. Read it, especially the end. That's the part with you in it."

"Henry-" Emma began with a long-suffering sigh, lips parted in the beginnings of another argument.

"You have to take it!" he insisted. "Look, I know you don't believe; the hero never believes at first. If they did, it wouldn't be a very good story." He offered the book more insistently, practically shoving it at her until the only reaction possible reaction was for her to take it with a confused look of bewilderment and an exasperated: "Fine!"

It was heavier than she remembered it from the day before. Holding it, she felt almost burdened. Like it somehow contained answers to questions she wasn't sure if she wanted to know the answers to. Henry seemed relieved to see it in her arms, and offered a brave smile just as the door to the car opened and allowed for the almost-familiar sound of a cane pressing into the gravel.

Gold, Emma noted with a tiny measure of satisfaction, did not look at all pleased to see her there. But he said nothing, merely looking at Henry with an unreadable expression. "Henry," the mayor said with a slight smile, holding his cane lightly with both hands resting on the top. "Come along, boy. It's time to get you home for supper." He indicated the car with a tilt of his head.

Wordlessly, Henry nodded, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and making his way into the car. Emma rose as well, the book of fairy tales held under one arm and braced with the other hand as she gave her biological son a last friendly smile before he headed away. Henry paused, turned back to Emma, and hugged her around the middle. Surprised, her grip on the book lessened, freeing her hand to wrap around the boy and awkwardly return the hug.

Clucking his tongue impatiently, Gold tapped his cane once on the gravel. Hard. Hard enough to crush whatever unfortunate piece had been unlucky enough to be beneath it. Breaking away, Henry swallowed roughly, gave Emma a parting, plaintive look, and walked to the car.

Gold barely looked at him, didn't even turn when Henry opened the back door and slid into the car before slamming the door shut. Gold closed his eyes, giving a brief sigh at the slam. As if he'd endured it countless times. With a shake of his head, he leveled a piercing gaze at Emma. The smile he'd worn had faded, and what remained certainly did not reach his eyes.

"Miss Swan," he finally acknowledged with a tilt of his head in her direction. "How... unexpected. I thought for sure you'd have left my town by now, dearie."

Emma shrugged, a difficult thing to do with the book under her arm, and met his gaze. "I thought I'd hang around a few days."

The cane ground down a little harder on the gravel. "I don't think that's a good idea, Miss Swan."

She rolled her eyes, tilting her head to the side and leveling her own glare at him, almost amused. "Funny. Apparently you and Regina agree on that."

Gold was silent for a moment, and finally he chuckled, his teeth glinting when he drew his lips back into a wry grin. "You're not afraid of me. That's either cocky or presumptuous." Emma had a retort on the tip of her tongue, but he waved his hand in clear change of subject. "Staying at the bed and breakfast, are you?"

Her brow furrowed slightly, unsure of why he cared. It was really the only place to stay, after all. But Emma had never been one to respond to evasion, so she didn't bother with the question. Instead, she chose to face the threat. "You can't do anything to me."

Another little chuckle in response. "Are you so certain of that, dearie? We both know there's a reason you're staying here, Miss Swan." He turned slightly, head turning over his shoulder to glance at the boy sitting in the car. Emma's face visibly blanched, earning her an eery cackle from the mayor. "'Funny,' he mocked her earlier words, "it appears that _you _and Regina have something in common as well."

Emma felt her blood freeze in her veins, every iota of amusement having dropped instantly from her face and from her posture. He'd chosen words and gesture very carefully, she knew. It wasn't an outright threat to Henry or his safety, nothing that she could use if she tried to move against him, and she knew it. But the danger to the boy was implied. Her grip around the book tightened, her knuckles turning white.

Gold's smile returned, his cane once again light in his fingers as he held it in his right hand. "You have a nice day, dearie," He tipped his head again in acknowledgment, and turned away.

Emma stood stock still, mouth open, staring at his retreating back and then at Henry in the car. "You heartless bastard," she finally whispered, just barely loud enough for him to hear. But he did, turning slightly to glance at her over his shoulder as she continued: "How on earth did any court ever think you'd be a better parent than Regina?"

Gold openly laughed at that, though he did not turn away. He continued to walk to his car, opened the door, and slid inside. "Oh, I think you'll find that Ms. Mills is the heartless one." Before closing the door again, he looked at her fully, as if imparting a secret. "Just ask around town, dearie. See how many she's broken." The door closed, the car roared to life, and Emma was left once again alone, a sinking feeling in her stomach and a lump in her throat.

* * *

ooooooooooooooooo

* * *

It was with a certain sort of resignation that Emma once again entered the diner. It was, she was glad to note, fairly empty. Dinner rush must end fairly early in a small town. Ruby smiled at her widely as she entered, and Emma gave a halfhearted wave back, asking for a cocoa as soon as the waitress got a moment. Sitting down at an empty booth in the diner, Emma finally allowed herself to look- really look, at the book Henry had left in her care. It was easier than thinking about anything else, right now. Setting the book on the table, she scrubbed at her face with both hands, trying to eradicate the image of Gold's smug little smile from her mind. It wasn't working very well. With a soundless sigh, she took a deep breath, and then another, and finally pulled her hands down and flipped the book open.

Ruby was staring at her, a basket held loosely in one hand and a hood draped over her shoulders. Startled, Emma blinked, then looked at the image again. Okay, it wasn't actually Ruby. It just looked a little like her. Frighteningly so, actually. She was beginning to see where Henry had first gotten the idea for the whole curse thing. She flipped to the next page, on which the same character was depicted, a surprised and frightened look on her face. She almost seemed to be looking straight out of the book, ready to scream out a warning at any moment. _"Emma..." _

"What the?!" Emma freaked, snapping the book closed with a loud thump and a backwards jerk of her body. And completely startling the very real Ruby who'd been standing next to her and calling her name the last 10 seconds. Ruby jumped a bit herself, the cocoa in her hand sloshing out of its mug and spilling directly onto Emma's shirt.

"Shit!" they both hissed at the same time. "God, Emma, I'm so sorry!" Ruby continued alone as the blonde rose from the seat quickly, grabbing a handful of napkins from the dispenser and furiously blotting at what would surely stain. Then she ignored her shirt in a frantic moment of checking the book. Henry would kill her if anything happened to it. Fortunately, it remained cocoa-free.

Snatching her trusty bar towel from her apron pocket, Ruby attempted to help clean up, this time without the badly concealed grope attempts. Their mixed efforts resulted in a large oval-shaped stain splashed down the front of Emma's tank top. "Really?" she asked no one, sighing and looking skyward. To her mental list of things to do tomorrow, Emma silently added 'shopping.'

"Eesh," was all Ruby could think to reply. "I'm so sorry," she finally said again.

Emma waved her off with another sigh, "Not your fault," she muttered grimly. "You got a laundry room I can use?" Really, she supposed that would be too much to ask, but Ruby surprised her by giving an agreeable nod and an 'mhmm!'

A few minutes later had Emma shirtless with her tank top in the washing machine. She sighed again. She seemed to be doing that quite often since she'd gotten to Storybrooke. "Well, that solves the long-term," she muttered idly to Ruby, who had graciously (but not without a tiny pout) turned her back while Emma was shirtless. "You don't happen to have anything I can wear 'til the cycle's done, do you?" She doubted it, but then she'd also doubted the existence of a laundry room, so...

"Actually," Ruby said with a smirk, and turned around to reveal a grey, silky button down shirt in her arms.

Taking it warily, Emma raised an eyebrow skeptically. "...You just happen to have an extra shirt laying around here?"

"Oh, it's uh... not mine." Ruby looked away, suddenly finding the ceiling fascinating. "...someone... must have left it here? People leave all kinds of things on the booths sometimes. It's clean, though!" she added quickly. "I washed it after... uh-"

Emma didn't have to use her superpower to know Ruby wasn't entirely telling the truth. "Ruby," she huffed, holding the shirt away from her with two fingers as if it would bite her. "I don't want to just go around wearing just anyone's shirt!"

"It's not just anyone's!" the waitress insisted defensively, shoving the shirt back. "It's Ms. Mills', and if you don't want it-"

Another eyebrow raise, and Emma's attention turned away from the article of clothing in question to look curiously at the woman who held it. "Why do you have Regina's shirt?"

A flush as red as that name spread quickly over Ruby's cheeks. She didn't even bother to think of why Emma knew Regina's name. "Um..." she said again, hesitantly, "she... we... I-" A finger began to nervously twirl the ends of her hair around her finger.

Green eyes opened wide with understanding."Oh. Never mind," Emma waved her hand as realization dawned. She took the shirt again, quickly shrugging it on and doing up the buttons. "Thanks for the shirt," she muttered, and rushed past the still-blushing girl toward the door.

Ruby grabbed her wrist as she walked by, halting her process. "What?"

Jerking her hand away quickly, it was Emma's turn to flush. "I... saw you driving away from Regina's house yesterday morning."

"You what?!" the waitress froze, quickly turning around and making sure the door to the laundry room was closed.

Emma swallowed nervously. Great, locked in a room with someone she barely knew. "Look, it's okay," she tried to placate. "I'm not judging."

"Did you tell anyone?!" the waitress' voice was hushed now, but quick and almost panicked in its urgency.

"Uh... no."

A noticeable sigh of relief. "If Gold found out I'd been there..." she trailed off, giving a shudder which Emma couldn't really fault her for. "Well, it would be bad. He doesn't take very kindly to people... favoring her."

"Really?" Emma blurted out before she could think better of it. Ruby raised an eyebrow at her at that. "She seems... well connected, is all."

"Of course she is," Ruby shrugged. "You don't do... what she does without learning things." She gave a small smile, and nervously began inspecting her fingernails. With her attention thus fixed away from the other woman, though surreptitiously looking at her to judge reaction, she continued absently: "I've thought about working for her myself a few times."

Emma's eyes nearly shot out of her skull. "Really?! Uh... why?"

She shrugged. "Something different, I guess. I feel like I've worked here forever, you know? And the tips have got to be better than here." She hazarded the blonde a full glance, then, and stopped her filing. Her arms crossed automatically in front of her chest. "What happened to not judging?"

Balking, the blonde shook her head, trying to form words. "Nothing! It's just... well that's a really big decision... and if you're going to go do something … you know, illegal...you should have a damn good reason, is all." Her gaze hardened, becoming almost far-away. When she spoke again, her voice was softer, regretful. "Believe me, I know."

Ruby laughed. "God, Emma!" One of her hands shot out to knock playfully against Emma's shoulder. "You act like she's some kind of hooker madam or something."

"She's not?" Once again, Emma's words had flown out before she could stop them, and she wished upon all the damn birthday candles in the world that she could pull them back into her mouth.

Especially when Ruby just stared at her, wide-eyed, looking not unlike a fish out of water. For several agonizing seconds, her lips moved but no words formed, all playfulness replaced by sheer shock. "Oh my god!" she finally breathed. "You think Regina's a hooker!"

Not quite knowing how to react, Emma just stood there, in Regina's shirt, while Ruby stared at her, completely flabbergasted. Finally, she hesitantly began, "Well, Gold said that-"

Waving her off, Ruby stopped her right there. "And you believed him?" At Emma's guilty look, the waitress just shook her head. "God, Emma!" she gave an exasperated little laugh. "Look, if you're gonna stay in Storybrooke, there are a couple things you need to know." She raised her other hand, counting off on her fingers. "First, never believe anything the mayor says, especially if it's about Regina. lotta bad blood there."

Understatement of the year.

Ruby continued: "Second, never make _any _deals with him whatsoever."A nod. "Third, _never believe anything the mayor says! _Got it?"

A final nod. She felt thoroughly chastised.

"Good." Ruby was still shaking her head. "I like you, Emma" she grinned again, looking much more like the flirtatious waitress she usually was. "Just don't run around being stupid, okay?" She nodded again. Ruby smiled. "We should get back out there. People might start talking," she winked playfully. "Come on." Listening intently at the door, apparently trying to see if anyone was coming. Obviously satisfied, she opened the door and stepped out into the main hall.

Following with a frown on her face, Emma couldn't quite bring herself to ask the obvious question. If Regina was not, as Gold had called her, 'the town whore,' then what _did _she do?

* * *

ooooooooooooooooo

* * *

After a few drinks and horrible come-ons by some idiot named Whale (who'd insisted on hitting on her despite being told numerous times that she wasn't interested and finally had to be flat-out told it was time to leave by a decidedly less-than-chipper Ruby), she'd finally gone back to her room intending to sleep until well into mid-morning. About 12:30 saw Emma tossed out of her fitful sleep once again, glancing at the clock on the wall to see how long, if at all, she'd managed to stay asleep so far. Not very long at all, then. She groaned, grabbing her pillow and shoving it over her own head. If she couldn't fall asleep, maybe she'd get lucky and suffocate herself. That, at least, might keep her mind from running around in circles as it had done since... well, since she'd come to town, really.

Her head was close to exploding with thoughts of Regina, fairy tales, Ruby, the book, Henry, the clock, Gold... Regina again. It had been Ruby's fault, she tried to rationalize. Putting ideas of Regina in her head, making her brain focus on one glaring mystery above all the others. But she couldn't blame Ruby for the fact that, despite her best efforts, Regina could never even pass through her thoughts before her mind flashed back to that very first image of her. The fishnets wrapped around long, toned legs. The incredibly taunting triangle of black fabric, if you could call it that, that had guarded where those legs met. The way that red and black corset had just barely seemed to keep Regina's more... noticeable assets covered... God, however infuriating she was, Emma had to admit she was... incredibly hot.

And damn it, this really wasn't what she needed to be thinking about right now. She needed to be asleep. Or thinking about Henry and what to do, at the very least. Hell, even how best to get around Gold. Anything, except Regina and her unfair hotness.

She needed, she realized after another agonizing hour of not sleeping, a distraction. Or possibly someone to talk to. Or both. And she really only knew one person semi-well enough to go bug at 1:30 in the morning. And who'd given the invitation. Besides, her head tried to reason, Ruby'd probably still be half-wired from having just gotten off work.

Rolling off her bed and pulling on Regina's shirt again, she paused to fix her hair, grabbed her jacket, and left her room. Taking a deep breath, Emma tentatively knocked on the door. Second on the left from her own. After a few agonizing seconds, it opened just a crack. Ruby, seeing it was her, smiled just a little. A little tired, but nowhere near asleep-looking. The smile wasn't quite as bright as it had been earlier, but it was a smile all the same. "Hey, Emma. Can't sleep?"

Putting her hands in her pockets, as if that could protect her from her own idiocy, Emma smiled back awkwardly, and tried to begin the words she'd rehearsed, very briefly, in her head. "No. Well... yeah, but I just wanted to ...um... well, apologize for... well for everything. I didn't mean to jump to conclusions or offend you, and I certainly wasn't judging. I was just... surprised, I guess." That hadn't been the most eloquent thing she'd ever said, certainly, but her mind was still somewhat reeling with images of Regina. Which were not at all helped when the door opened to reveal Ruby dressed in tight black jeans and a vibrantly red corseted top, topped off by a darker, almost maroon half-shawl. Emma gaped, her brain completely misfiring.

Wrapping a shawl a bit tighter around her shoulders, Ruby shrugged idly, either completely oblivious or else not caring about Emma's reaction to her current outfit. Or preening. "Don't worry about it." She smiled again.

There was an awkward moment of silence, during which Emma looked down at the toes of her boots. Easier not to drool that way. "Right... well... okay. See you later." She turned to go, suddenly shy. Obviously, Ruby had plans for the evening. And really, she argued, even if she hadn't, what had she been expecting? Probably the last thing the younger woman wanted was to chat with a near-stranger after working all day.

"Hey, Emma?" Ruby's voice called from behind her. Emma turned back, wetting suddenly dry lips. Ruby was in the hallway now, and even the overhead fluorescent lighting seemed to refuse to shine on her any way other than perfectly. "If I can ask: what are you doing here, aside from _not_ flirting?" A smile tugged at the corners of perfectly painted, red lips.

Emma blinked, swallowed, then blinked again. And only then tried to come up with an answer that was halfway intelligible. "...I'm still working that out."

A slow, half-way understanding nod, and then Ruby smiled again, this time the wattage far surpassing even those offered at the diner. "...Kay. Well, I'm here, you know? Not just to spill drinks on you, I mean, if you want to talk or anything..."

"I'll remember, thanks," Emma said quickly, alarm bells ringing in her head at the smallest prospect of opening up. And she really needed to leave while Ruby was still wearing... that. She had to curse her head further, because even with Ruby looking as fan-fucking-tastic as she did, her brain was still picturing Regina. And then Regina with Ruby. And then Regina with Ruby without the corsets. And that line of thinking, she knew, would not go anywhere good.

Oblivious (Emma hoped) to her incredibly arousing train of thought, Ruby just smiled again. "Okay. Goodnight, then."

"Night!" she called over her shoulder, and high-tailed it back to her room. A shower. Yes. A Nice, long, cold shower. That would help.

It did, marginally. At the very least, leaving it, Emma felt far more refreshed. She hadn't bothered to wash her hair, but the rest of her body felt infinitely more... invigorated. Which wasn't necessarily a good thing, at 2 in the morning.

She idly wondered if Ruby was still around... Shaking her head, Emma smacked her hand against the door of her room. What the hell would making a friend (or more) hurt, even if she was only staying a week? She could use someone to talk to, even if it were only talk about nothing. She could also, she mused, use a good drink. It struck her, finally, then, the real problem: she didn't want to be cooped up in a room. She needed to let out some steam. Briskly pulling on her clothes and her jacket, she shut the door to her room and walked back to the second door on the right. She knocked. "Ruby?"

The door opened, red-streaked locks poking out around an inquisitive face. More make-up, this time. She wondered if Ruby was about ready to go... wherever she was going. And a small grin came to Emma's face when she also wondered if they had drinks there.

"...Where do you go for a decent drink around here?"

After a tiny moment of silence, Ruby broke into another radiant, beaming smile. "I knew I'd like you. Come on."

* * *

ooooooooooooooooo

* * *

They seemed to drive forever, leaving the interior of Storybrooke proper and heading down what appeared to be a road that only led to woods. Emma was beginning to get a little nervous. Sure, driving with Ruby was fun- the girl liked to blare her music and drive a little on the fast side, which suited Emma just fine- but after about five minutes of nothing but trees, she was beginning to grow a little concerned. "Uh... Ruby?"

The driver only winked at her, shifting the car into third gear after a bumpy patch of road had caused her to slow. "Trust me," she smirked.

That was a lot to ask, for Emma. But still, she nodded slowly, and echoed the smile with an only partly worried one of her own. And not long after, they reached a break in the trees, a clearing containing a single building. It didn't look like much, really. But that didn't mean a thing.

Ruby pulled to a stop right in front of the place's sign. No neon, nothing tacky; just a few simple lights illuminating the logo: a pair of lips hovered sensually above an apple, beneath which lay the name in curling typeface. Emma could help but read it aloud, almost laughing in her astonishment.

"'Forbidden Fruit?'"

Ruby just laughed with her (at her?) as she put the car in gear. "Trust me," she grinned again.

Emma didn't hear her, too busily focused on the sign. Her head tilted, examining it a little further. Her eyes widened. She knew those lips.

They were Regina's.

* * *

She didn't quite know what to expect upon entering. The slow, erotic pounding bass of the music certainly brought its own series of images to mind. But, if she'd made a guess, it probably wouldn't have been completely monochromatic black and white, marble, dark wood, a truly epic fireplace and bowls of red, red apples on every table. Which were centered in clusters around each shining, incredibly immaculate pole. Around two of which corseted girls were gyrating sexily to the music.

"Ruby!" she squeaked in surprise and irritation. "This is a strip club!" Granted, the most... well lit, modern and clean-looking strip club she'd ever seen, but...

Ruby nudged her in the shoulder. "Technically, it's a dance club," she pointed out. "No one actually takes anything off. But they do have the best drinks in Storybrooke." Placing her hands on Emma's shoulder's, she turned the blonde away from the dancing girls and pointed her in the direction of the bar.

Emma tried not to protest. The show currently being put on by the two ladies was... stimulating, to say the least. Not that it really helped her mental state of the moment.

Right, drinks. Ruby was dragging her along by the wrist, and Emma trailed behind semi-slowly, her brain trying to catch up to everything she was seeing. The whole... club... looked like it should have come straight out of Architectural Digest or something. All the lights angled away from the walls, but it didn't prevent the black and white wallpaper- trees, it looked like- from being noticed. But though everything was glaringly monochromatic, the lighting seemed to dim the contrast, muting the starkness. The better, Emma supposed, to concentrate on the dancers. She had plenty of opportunity to look around. Ruby was stopped every few feet by a friendly greeting, or, on a few occasions, a wolf-whistle. Apparently she was rather well-known here.

It was during a short conversation that had arisen after one such greeting that Emma found herself collided with. Forced to stumble into Ruby, she managed to twist mostly out of the way to avoid the spilling tray of drinks from (once again) drenching her shirt. Regina's shirt. Whatever. The tray fell clattering to the floor, leaving the hapless employee crying out both from the surprise of the collision and in dismay at dropping her drinks.

"Oh goodness, I'm so sorry! I lost my balance in the heels, and I-" Emma didn't hear the rest of the somewhat high-pitched apology, too busy helping Ruby off the floor where she'd fallen.

"You okay, Ruby?" she asked, giving the younger woman a once-over to ensure she, too, had avoided being spilled upon. She was fine, and said as much, though gave a smirk to see Emma checking her out.

The klutzy girl had stopped babbling out apologies by this point, and was bent over, frantically trying to pick up the fallen tray and the glasses. None of which appeared to have broken, she was pleased to note.

Emma and Ruby were both bending to help when another set of hands joined into the mix, shooing both of theirs away with light, fluttery motions..

"I've got this, ladies," the owner said calmly. On the back of one wrist, as that was all Emma could see of her at the moment, was a small slightly faded tattoo of what appeared to be dragonfly wings. But she obviously knew what she was doing. In seconds, it seemed, everything was picked up, dried, and rebalanced on the new woman's tray. "Honestly, Astrid!" she chastised, glancing at the younger girl.

"I-I'm sorry," Astrid -apparently- apologized again, stumbling a little.

The new woman, a brunette with her hair pinned highish on her head, was obviously her superior of some sort. She just gave a disappointed little shake of her head, as if this happened often, and handed the girl the tray with the empty glasses and sodden towel. "Just take these away, Astrid, please. And try not to spill when they're refilled? Thank you."

The girl nodded several times in succession, looking not unlike a bobble-head doll, and quickly ran off to obey. Only mildly bumping into Emma again as she left.

Ruby, by this point, was nearly in stitches, causing the older brunette to level her with a wary glance. Which only made Ruby laugh a little more. "New girl, Blue?"

"Yes," she sighed, rubbing her forehead with expertly manicured fingernails- painted to match her outfit, Emma noted. If 'Blue' was really her name, it... well, kind of suited. The other woman was dressed in no color but, in various shades and hues. The corset, more modest than some of the others, (certainly moreso than Ruby's), was a glittering navy, sky-blue piping trimming every seam. It drew down to a point in the center, from which flowed a flared, knee-length skirt, ombréd downwards from cerulean to the same navy of the corset. "Good evening, Ruby. And... Ruby's friend?"

As if on cue, Ruby's hand was around Emma's shoulders, startling her to the point of gasping just a bit. "Oh, this is Emma. Emma, Faye Modrina, but everyone calls her Blue. She manages the dancers."

"Uh... hi." Great job, Emma. Not awkward at all.

Blue didn't seem to notice, an apologetic little smile on her face, still shaking her head a bit. "I'm so very sorry Astrid ran into you. She's still learning."

"Don't worry about it, really."

"I spilled a drink on Emma myself, earlier," Ruby confessed with another laugh.

Blue smiled, a little less harrowed, and permitted herself a small chuckle. "That isn't very like you, Ruby." Emma became conscious of the fact that she was being given a once-over by the other woman. Almost like she was trying to read her like a book or something. "You must have a talent for distracting people, Emma."

Shuffling a bit awkwardly on her feet, Emma could only smile slightly back before turning back to Ruby. "About that drink?" she asked, hopefully. She wanted to get away from Blue... something about her was a little off-putting.

"Right," Ruby agreed, smiling broadly and not at all noticing Emma's discomfort. "Excuse us," she winked, and began steering Emma back towards the bar. "We have a hot date with a stiff drink."

"Of course. Tell Pam it's on me. Only," she added, with a warning glance at Ruby, "the first round. Got it?" Ruby feigned hurt, then gave a toothy grin. Blue smiled a little resignedly. "I should really make sure Astrid doesn't spill anything else. Enjoy yourselves." With a parting nod of her head, she flitted away with small, graceful swishes of her skirt, vanishing into the crowd of people.

Emma shook her head, and seriously hoped they wouldn't run into anyone else in the few feet it took to get the the bar. She really needed that drink.

The bartender was turned away when they walked up, grabbing a bottle of something very red from the second to top shelf. A mass of slightly frizzed blonde curls cascaded down from her head, resting above purple and black brocade. "The usual, Ruby?" she called over her shoulder.

"Hell yes!" Ruby beamed, plopping herself down on the stool with a flourish and then gesturing to Emma to do the same. Rolling her eyes, Emma sat, with decidedly less gusto than her... well, friend, she supposed.

Putting the finishing touches on Ruby's drink, the bright red concoction was placed in front of the bouncy brunette, who quickly grabbed it and popped the garnish into her mouth.

Emma could only watch with bemused incredulity. The drink was nothing she'd ever seen before. "Do I even want to know what that is?" she laughed.

"Big Bad Wolf with a split cherry on a little plastic sword thingy!" Ruby rolled her eyes like it was obvious, the plastic sword sticking out of her mouth at a jaunty angle. "Want a sip?"

"...No, thanks." The smell of cherries was almost strong enough to make her want to gag. "What the hell's in a Big Bad Wolf?"

"Cherry brandy, maraschino liqueur, amaretto, tequila and grenadine," the bartender rattled off almost absently, replacing the various bottles on their shelves.

Finished with her cherry, Ruby took a healthy sip and then smacking her lips."Perfect, as always!" she chirped to the bartender.

"Honestly, Ruby. You act like you're surprised." The woman finally turned around, revealing dark red lips and grey-blue eyes beneath perfectly arched eyebrows. Eyes that were currently snaking appraisingly over what of Emma's body she could see. She'd almost have felt self-conscious, if Regina hadn't already done the exact same thing every moment since Emma had first met her. "And for you?"

By now, Emma was getting used to the scrutiny, and she gave it right back, letting her eyes linger over the prominently displayed cleavage of the other blonde's keyhole neckline, before allowing her gaze to slowly return to her eyes. "I don't care what you call it as long as it's sweet, strong, and large. And not fruity," she added quickly, still wrinkling her nose to get the scent of cherries out of it.

Dark red lips turned up in a thoughtful smile as she appeared to deliberate, taking in Emma's posture, expression, and body language. She glanced over at Ruby, who very obviously mouthed 'hot chocolate' at her. The bartender smirked. "White Knight, coming up."

Emma only watched in slight awe as two different rums, something that smelled like chocolate but wasn't, milk, and a tiny bit of Bailey's were shaken and poured over ice. The resulting concoction was a cream-colored something that smelled amazing. Still, her hand was a bit wary when she took it. Glancing at Ruby, she closed her eyes and very cautiously sipped. Her eyes snapped wide open and she drank a bit deeper. "Oh my god!" she sighed contentedly, causing the bartender to grin triumphantly. Emma's tongue trailed around the interior of her mouth, delighting in the mix making love to her tastebuds.

Ruby laughed as if declaring victory. "I think you win again, Pam."

"Again, Ruby: you act as if you're surprised." She grinned, and then offered Emma her hand to shake. "Pamala Phillipson."

Shaking it with her free hand, Emma refused to let go of her drink with the other, taking another grateful swallow when the shaking was finished. "Emma Swan. I'm gonna need about three more of these."

Running another sweeping gaze over Emma, the other blonde gave a little smirk. "Finish that one first," she chuckled, and with a little nod to Ruby, she headed down the bar to see someone else.

The next few minutes were spent, in Emma's opinion, quite happily. She was enjoying her drink and attempting to keep it from coming out of her nose while Ruby told a story about a guy coming into Granny's wearing only a bassoon.

It was during a rather fleeting glance down the bar, quite by accident, that Emma's breath caught in her throat. There, standing near the bar and chatting with Pamala, was a very familiar-looking brunette. Wearing a sheer black lace mask surrounded by feathers, but recognizable nonetheless. To Emma's shock, and while she watched with widening eyes, the brunette bent over the bar to give a far less than chaste kiss to the bartender.

Whoa.

Emma forced herself to blink, sure she was seeing things. But no, when her eyes opened again she was still there, one of her hands now beginning to lightly entwine into slightly frizzed blonde ringlets.

That weren't hers. …Where the hell had that thought come from?

Noticing that Emma's attention had veered from her story (annoying, as she was just getting to the point where they guy had started rambling on about sheep and meadows and corn), Ruby glanced over to see what had Emma so enthralled. Seeing the two women kissing, she gave a low whistle. "Damn, did we pick a good night to come," she grinned, knocking playfully into Emma's shoulder and jolting her out of her thoughts.

"Huh?" the blonde blinked, regretfully turning away to look at Ruby, who only grinned wolfishly at her and drained the rest of her drink, leaving Emma to stare back at the spectacle on the other end of the bar.

It was too much. Before she was even thinking about it, Emma had hopped off her stool, half-finished drink in hand, and was heading towards the adopted mother of her son. Who was, she was amused to note, actually wearing more than she'd been when they first met.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Ruby shrieked loud enough to break glass, futilely trying to grab Emma's wrist to pull her from what was almost certainly a date with disaster. "Don't you know who that _is_?!"

Of course she did, Emma thought, evading Ruby's frantic grasp with ease. The mask did little to obscure the facial features of the woman before her. And even if it had, the black leather bustier trimmed with iridescent feathers and the incredibly tight-fitting leather pants certainly left nothing else to the imagination, and Emma had already seen far more this particular woman. She had the presence of mind to wait until they'd had stopped kissing before clearing her throat.

"Regina?" Emma called to her as she approached the bar, Ruby trailing awkwardly behind her, gaping at the use of first name.

The brunette's head snapped up, instantly breaking whatever connection she was forming (had formed?) with the bartender. Both turned to stare at her with wide eyes, Pamala seemingly appalled. And looking like she wouldn't be above skewering Emma at the moment.

Regina herself didn't seem adverse to the idea of killing whoever had dared to interrupt her, either. When she saw who exactly who it was, dark eyes rolled beneath the mask, and glanced back to the bartender. "Give us a moment, Mal," she muttered, an affectionate smile added as an afterthought.

Grey-blue eyes shot Regina a curious look, and then Emma felt them raking over her body once again, before their owner gave a nod. "Of course," Pam (Mal?) smirked back to Regina, and turned her attentions to the other guests at the bar. One of which was an incredibly apologetic-looking Ruby. 'Sorry,' she mouthed, tilting her head in Emma's direction. 'She's new.'

"What are _you_ doing here, Regina?" The blonde laughed, cocking her head to the side. The irony of having had a conversation very similar to this this morning had not escaped her.

Regina only half-turned in Emma's direction, keeping her arms braced behind her on the bar. Probably, Emma had the thought, to keep herself from wrapping her hands around Emma's neck. "Working, Miss Swan," she finally conceded with a glare. "Do you mind?"

Emma allowed her eyes, this time, to wander slowly over the black leather hugging Regina's each and every curve. "Not at all."

Either not minding or used to such ogling, the brunette didn't even twitch, other than allowing her own eyes to sweep over Emma as well. "Still in town, I see."

"Yep."

"Enjoying yourself?" An eyebrow raised above the edge of the mask, one of Regina's hands coming to rest on her own hip.

Thinking about it, Emma shifted the position of her fingers around her drink. "Despite people playing tonsil hockey in public?" she smirked, looking at Regina pointedly. "Yes, actually," she grinned, and drank it to empty. Mmm... heaven.

Dark eyes grew icy; the older woman's body posture stiffened considerably. And then she seemed to shake it off. "In this bar, dear," she tried to smile, "one gets used to it. You may as well just relax and enjoy the show."

Emma felt the urge to laugh. As if Regina had any room to talk on telling other people to relax.

Even as she was still speaking, Regina was peering around the blonde's shoulder, obviously wondering who had brought Emma here. When she found the answer, she didn't seem to be very surprised. "Ruby," she nodded in acknowledgment, and a warmer smile spread over her lips. "Taking in strays now?" she nodded her head toward Emma.

Ruby just shrugged kind of awkwardly, and when Pamala handed her a fresh drink, she gulped it down without even taking out the cherry.

A dark chuckle escaped deep red lips as Regina shook her head. Then cocked it to the side, as if listening. Furrowing her brow, Emma tried to figure out what she was hearing. Other than slow bass of the current song drawing to a close, she didn't hear anything odd. But obviously there had been some cue that she'd missed, without another argument, Regina had straightened her shoulders, and ceased leaning on the bar. "I do have a job to do," she announced, and she looked long and hard at Emma. "Enjoy yourself. And my shirt." She strode away as regally as anything. Impressive, Emma had to concede, when she finally saw the four inch, thigh-length boots the brunette was wearing. Her mouth watered just a little, and she told herself it was only because she needed another drink. Rolling her eyes at Regina's exit, she turned back to the bar to fix that.

Only to find Ruby staring at her as if she'd just grown another head. "Emma! What the hell was that?!"

She wished she knew, really. She could only shrug. And signal to Pam... Mal... whatever, that she needed a new drink.

Several White Knights later saw a pleasantly buzzed Emma Swan leaning on a very sober Ruby. The waitress had stopped drinking after that... altercation with Regina. A good thing, really, as she was the one who knew the way back to the inn. But it was several miles into the drive home before Ruby actually dared breach the subject that she most wanted to ask. "...How well do you know Madame Mills?"

Emma stared, then just laughed, a little too loud and too fast."Is that actually what she's called?" Ruby didn't reply, so the blonde just shrugged. "...She's the mother of my kid."

In the stunned silence that followed, Ruby could only blink, digesting. And then she laughed. "So she finally found you, huh? Good for her."

It took a moment for the words to sink in through Emma's rum-induced fog. "...Wha? Henry found me. Took the bus to Boston by himself."

"Oh..." Ruby's brow crossed, confused. "Nevermind," she said quickly. "I must be-"

"What do you mean 'finally'?"

looking a little guilty, like she knew she probably shouldn't say anything, Ruby finally gave a sigh and leaned her head back on her headrest. "...She'd been looking for you for months. Ever since..." she trailed off.

"The divorce?" Emma suggested. It wouldn't have surprised her. The rending of whatever had been between Regina and Gold seemed to be when a lot of things had changed around Storybrooke.

"'Divorce?'" Ruby shook her head, surprised it had even been brought up. "No... Since the election."

* * *

ooooooooooooooooo

* * *

_~Back at Forbidden Fruit~_

Glitter wafted in a trail slowly behind her skirt as Blue moved quietly over to the bar. She waited a moment, letting the silence of the empty establishment wash over her. So much better, she thought, when the patrons all finally left. Peaceful. Serene. A pity she had to break it by glancing over at the woman wiping a towel over the surface of the marble. "What do you think?"

A long sigh caused a wisp of blond hair to curl in front of its owner's face. Wordlessly, Maleficent dropped her towel on the bar and reached for a bottle. "Pretty enough," she granted, after a swig, "but as far as saviors go? She doesn't seem like much." A beat, and she handed the bottle over. "We really have to put all our faith in _her_?" The sneer on her lips was evident even in the blackness of the room, lights long since turned off.

Wrinkling her nose just a little, the Blue Fairy nevertheless took a swig. "I don't see as we have much of a choice. She _is_ the savior."

Another long moment of silence, stretching out into the eery quiet of a club closed down for the day. Then, finally, an exasperated sigh. "...Why do I get the feeling we're all screwed?"


	7. The Day She Fled

**VII: The Day She Fled**

Trigger warning: Reference to rape, and the after effects of. Also, some Dragon Queen.

_A/N: Now we finally come to the chapter that pretty much cemented the whole story in my head. It might seem a bit disjointed, but should answer a few questions, I hope. Bear with me._

_Enjoy._

* * *

…

* * *

**-Tuesday Evening-**

Enough, Gold decided, was really enough. He called his secretary immediately after his talk with the increasingly annoying Miss Swan during pickup of the boy. In no uncertain terms, he explained that the blonde was to be, at the very least, evicted from the Bed and Breakfast. It would take a bit more ingenuity to similarly ban her from any other property he owned, but he was assured it would be taken care of. By the time he hung up the phone, Gold felt certain it would be.

When it came to getting things done, Cora was nothing if not thorough.

Gold steepled his fingers beneath his chin. They retained Regina's distinct aroma of apples. And sex. He smirked. Spinning the band of metal that encircled his ring finger idly with the edge of his thumbnail, he took advantage of the momentary quiet and allowed himself an unusual moment of reflection. And remembrance.

* * *

….

_Even with the world lurching beneath her, Regina had managed to slam the doors to the pawnshop open so violently the glass within them shattered. He'd barely looked up from the small scroll before him. A scroll Regina would know very, very well indeed._

_Before she could even storm over to his counter, another massive quake shook the ground beneath her heeled feet. Stumbling, Regina reached out for the first trinket that came into her grasp. Behind her, the ground swallowed her Mercedes before resettling, now looking for all the world like the car had never been there. Eyes blazing, the former Queen marched over, slamming her hands down upon the wooden surface of his counter. "What the hell are you doing?!"_

_He didn't even bat an eye at her. "Changing the regime." He raised his hand, the earth shook again, and then they were no longer in Gold's Pawn shop. They were in the Mayor's office. Scroll still beneath his hand, he was now standing behind her desk with a triumphant smirk. It wasn't hers any longer._

_Dark eyes flashed around the room in horror. "You're breaking our deal?!"_

_He still wasn't looking up, fingers twitching as he ran them over the long scrap of parchment. "I broke one deal in my life, dear," he uttered drily. "And it certainly wasn't this one."_

_Another quake, another change, and Regina held on to what had been her desk with white-knuckles. "This doesn't make any sense!" she hissed. "You and I – we've been in this, together, from the start."_

_"Have we?" he shrugged. "Well, I've made a new arrangement, Your Majesty."_

_"You can't do that!"_

_He giggled at her anger, and the sound was far more reminiscent of Rumpelstiltskin than it ever would be of his more usual counterpart. "Mmn... actually... I can." He finally looked up, wanting to witness her reaction when he made the next alteration._

_Another surge of reality shifting, and a gold band now encircled the second smallest finger of Regina's left hand. A matching one graced his own. And oh, the look of horror on her face when she noticed was exquisite._

_"What the hell-?!" she gulped, eyes wide, before frantically trying to pry the band off her finger. It bent under the force of her grip, but not not come off._

_He laughed, a devilish grin spread over his features. "Mrs. Regina Gold. I quite like the sound of that, don't you?"_

_"How dare you?!" Eyes burning, she snarled, fist raising to just slap the impudent smirk off his face, only to find the head of his cane suddenly beneath her chin. Choking, her head was forced upwards, painfully, as the metal curve was thrust into her throat. All fight suddenly ceased._

_And the merry light in Gold's eyes had gone dark. Violent. He saw fear bloom in her face, and loved it._

_"Why?" she finally choked out, strangled._

_"You've had your fun, Regina," he growled, reaching his hand up to replace the head of his cane with his hand. Much more personal, this way. And it evoked another memory of the last time she'd stood before him demanding answers. "But this is a land without magic, dearie. No one gets their happy ending here. Even you."_

...

Back in his office, the mayor regretfully ended his little foray into memory, and opened his eyes to glance down at the papers on his desk. Emma Swan would be leaving his town soon. Very soon. That little problem would be rectified as easily as he'd broken Regina.

Pity, almost, that he wouldn't be able to do it quite the same way.

* * *

…

* * *

**-Tuesday Afternoon-**

The immediate aftermath of the most recent 'chat' with her ex-husband was the same as it always was. The same as it had been during the marriage. Regina had made it all the way to her car with her head held high, like a queen. As soon as the door shut behind her, she allowed herself a single choking sob, closing her eyes tightly against the torrent of revulsion that swept its way through her. That, too, was true to pattern.

Taking a steadying breath, and then another, Regina forced back the urge to retch when she discovered her mouth tasted like him. She would not succumb to the urge to vomit. Not in her car, at least. Get home, she told herself. Just get home. Focusing on a single goal was as good enough a way to cope as any, for now. Fortifying herself as much as she could, she turned on the engine and forced the car into gear. And then into motion. She was stronger than this. Stronger than him. And at the end of the day, she could and would endure much more than anyone ever thought possible of her. She always did.

Once she was finally within the sanctuary of her own walls, door locked and safely away from anyone who could hurt her, she no longer felt the compulsion to hold back. She made a beeline for the bathroom, and physically purged herself of his taste. Later, when the thought could occur to her, she'd wonder what it said about him that when finished, he'd lowered his head to her and drank in his own taste, mingled with hers. Sucking himself back out of her. Unable even to let her have that much of something of his.

Afterward, she brushed her teeth and then showered. And then showered again.

Finally, after using up most of her hot water, Regina had sighed, shoving away the revulsion, and gotten herself ready for work. The corset and leather pants felt welcoming, by that point. Familiar armor to shield against the world. The real armor, she knew, was herself.

But something else familiar probably wouldn't hurt. One last measure to rid her skin of her ex-husband's touch. And that, too, would be very true to pattern.

Her car pulled up to the club long before it opened, joining only one other in the parking lot. Regina went inside, the clicks of her heels on the floor the only sound in the club, empty save for one other person. The one she was looking for.

It took only a second or two for pale blue eyes to sweep over her, settling slowly on her face as Regina walked over to the immense marble surface of the bar. Studying her face, Mal was silent for a long moment before she rounded the other side of it, coming to stand next to her friend.

"He did it again." It wasn't a question. The sheer amount of anger that flashed through Mal's eyes when she said it would have been enough to make anyone's blood run cold. Without another word, she opened her arms, pulling the younger woman in for a hug. It was not a normal gesture on either of their parts. Awkward and stilted, Regina finally tried to relax into it, while Mal haltingly tapped the brunette's shoulder in as much of an attempt at comfort that she could make.

She wasn't, she knew, particularly good at this kind of comfort. But there was another that she excelled at, and Regina knew it. And that was, undoubtedly, why her friend was here so early. So when the hug ended, the blonde drew back, beginning to fumble with the busk of her friend's corset.

The brunette looked up. A soft hand lightly began to trace it's way over her cheek, Mal's thumb lightly tracing over the scar on her lip. She leaned forward to kiss it on an impulse. "You know you don't come here this early just for hugs," Mal said almost gently into Regina's ear.

"I'd hope not," Regina groaned quietly, her fingers relaxed, allowing Mal to pop the busk open. A soft sigh escaped as the garment was completely removed and tossed away, her breasts no longer under pressure. "You're terrible at them."

"And you're a terrible friend," Mal shot back, raising an eyebrow as if to dare Regina to refute it. She did not. Striding forward, she destroyed any distance previously between them, and claimed Regina's lips with her own. The cold marble of the bar pressed into Regina's back, causing her to hiss raggedly against Mal's lips. The blonde pulled away with a smirk. "But you're still the only one I have." A small measure of what could almost have been called affection crept into Mal's voice as she said it. And then she lowered her mouth to Regina's breasts, and words became so very unnecessary.

…

After, feeling more refreshed than a hundred showers, Regina slipped into the back room to re-situate herself, and then proceeded with her normal pre-opening routine. She checked in with Blue as soon as she arrived, and whatever else you could say about her, the woman certainly knew how to keep her girls in line. If nothing else, Regina had given her a small amount of respect for that alone. The other girls, as always, gave her a wide berth, but she checked in with them anyway. She always did.

Just before opening, she slid her mask into place, and gave herself a quick once-over in the mirror. Her eyes even sparkled just a little again, and she knew then that coming early had been the right thing to do. Even with the mask of lace now only marginally hiding her features, she felt infinitely more like herself.

It was a relatively quiet night, and to be honest, she didn't mind much. The regular crowd all shuffled in, heading over to Mal- Pam, most of them called her- for their drinks before finding their tables or making their own way over the dance floor. She had to smile when, during her rounds, a particularly heady song prompted low lighting, and a few regular patrons slipped over into the shadows to do... whatever they wanted. Not that Forbidden Fruit was typically a sex club, but... well, as long as a suitable show was put on... she just chuckled.

It was about midway through the evening that she noticed the altercation between Astrid and two women. She rolled her eyes at the girl's ineptitude, and resolved to perhaps have a little chat with her. She certainly didn't need to have drinks being spilled right and left. She'd have intervened directly, but Blue seemed to have everything under control quite nicely.

Seeing no other areas that needed her immediate attention, Regina finally strode openly onto the floor. Like the girls themselves, the patrons largely gave her space. They knew better.

Seeing that Mal was free of thirsty patrons for a moment and seemed to be idly running a towel over the bar, she sauntered over. "I do hope you sanitized that," the brunette muttered almost absently, a faint smile creeping up her lips.

Looking up, Mal rolled her eyes, but was glad to see her friend actually smiling again. "I always do."

Brown eyes looked away, and Regina took a shallow breath. She may as well... "Mal..." Regina sighed, softly, a hand resting tentatively on the cool marble. "I know I haven't always..."

But she was cut off with another eyeroll and a sigh. "Don't. It is what it is, and we can't change ourselves anymore than we can change the past. So don't worry about it."

"...Thank you." Another smile, though this one was almost sweet.

Running her eyes slowly over the form of her friend and finally resting on the generously displayed cleavage, the blonde simply shot her a grin. "You can thank me later."

Regina actually laughed at that, and leaned in closely, allowing her cleavage to be pressed up even further. "Why not now?" she purred, and swept in for a sudden and very, very intimate kiss.

Which is, of course, when another, infinitely more troublesome blonde had chosen to interrupt. And, of all things, flirt with her. Or at least it certainly seemed that way. Having little choice but to flirt back, Regina clung to her smugness, one of many weapons she wielded, and did a few rounds of wordplay with the frustrating Miss Swan. Who was, she noted with interest, wearing one of her shirts. Ruby's fault, no doubt. The other brunette had certainly looked guilty when she'd spoken to her over Emma's shoulder.

She... actually wore it rather well. Regina felt her eyes linger a bit too long, and played it off. Emma seemed to be doing her own share of staring was well. Still, she knew that the conversation really had no need to continue very far. And she did, in fact, still have a job to do.

Idly, she found herself wondering if Miss Swan even knew what it was.

* * *

…

* * *

**-Wednesday Morning-**

The damn clock woke her up again. She was considering discovering its inner workings chamber and shutting the infernal thing down for good. But before she could actively plot out the clock's demise, Emma found herself completely unsurprised to hear the insistent knock at her door.

This time, she decided to make Regina wait until she had her damn coffee. Though the knocking was doing nothing to help the headache brewing from her indulgence the night before, the coffee, she was sure, would do wonders. This time she also bothered to put her pants before opening the door. Even Regina didn't need to see that much of her two days in a row. Finally prepared, she opened the door.

As it turned out, it was a good thing she pulled the jeans on, as it was not her son's adopted mother at the door.

"Granny?" she blinked, a bit taken aback by the innkeeper's appearance at her door so early. "Uh... hi." Her brow furrowed automatically, and she knew that whatever was up, it couldn't be good.

As if to prove that, Granny herself was looking a bit flustered. "Miss Swan," she said by way of greeting, and then her eyes fell down to the floor. "Oh my, this is terribly awkward." she took a deep breath. "Um... I need to ask you to leave."

In the middle of a sip of coffee, Emma had to struggle to keep it in her mouth without spraying it. "What, why?"

"I..." she sighed, looking for all the world like she hated having to do this, but still needed to go through with it. "I'm afraid we've been... overbooked."

"Seriously?" Both eyebrows rose the very top of her head. "There's not even anyone else here!" she groaned, shaking her head. This wasn't Granny's fault, she knew. It wasn't all that hard to guess who was behind this idiocy. "Gold didn't even give you a real reason? "

She didn't have to look very hard to see the tiny glimmer of acknowledgment behind Granny's eyes. "The mayor's secretary didn't give me many details."

"Right." Rolling her eyes, Emma took another sip of coffee, draining the cup dry with a throwback of her head. Why these things always had to happen so early in the morning remained a mystery to her. Giving another sigh, she ran her free hand through her hair. "Okay."

"I'm afraid I need to ask for your key back," the proprietress continued with a sigh of her own.

Nodding, the blonde turned to grab the key from its place on the desk. Glancing through the window, her eyes fell upon the imposing walls of City Hall.

…

Research had never been high on the list of Emma's favorite things to do. Especially when it was quite this hard. With Storybrooke having almost no wi-fi anywhere and the library being closed, her options were limited.

At least the very, very chatty receptionist (Mrs. Hubbard, according to the nameplate) at the hall of public records had been of some help. In between talking about her five million (it seemed) children and how for whatever reason her house always seemed to smell like feet.

The citizens of Storybrooke, it seemed, did take great pride in preserving the history of their town. Even when it was more recent. Some things, like the newspaper clipping she'd unearthed announcing the wedding, were just interesting. Not particularly helpful, but interesting.

More helpful was an actual copy of the marriage license. And while she knew such a thing had to have existed, of course, it had been a bit jarring to actually see in print. "Mrs. Regina Gold," she muttered absently to herself, thumbing over the paper. Her thumb absently traced over the looping, tidy signature. Though it wasn't the name itself that she found most interesting. That honor belonged to a tiny box slightly above, beneath which lay the printed word "occupation." "Mayor" was indeed listed. But that box wasn't Gold's.

It was Regina's.

Swallowing thickly, Emma continued to run her fingers over the paper, stunned. She flipped further into her stack of documents. There was no divorce decree, but Mrs. Hubbard had assured her that wasn't unusual. The state of Maine viewed divorce as confidential. Records of it would hardly be public.

She had to settle for a few other old newspapers instead. The only article of any interest was a rather dull recounting of election ballots. Two years after the marriage, Regina had apparently been ousted as mayor, and her then-husband had replaced her. She couldn't help but wonder if the election had led to the divorce, or if the imminent divorce had been just another campaign point.

Whatever the answer, she wouldn't find it here. Stretching her muscles out a bit after a long time of staying in one place, Emma slowly rose from her seat, pushing the last of the filing cabinets shut. She thanked Mrs. Hubbard profusely for the help, but even as she did she couldn't help but wonder how long it would be until the lady had called Mr. Gold. Or if she had already.

All the more reason to leave now.

She'd had enough of research the old-fashioned way, anyway. Better to just ask the source directly. And that, she decided after stopping for a cocoa, was exactly what she was going to do.

…

Her fist was getting raw from pounding on the door, but she didn't relent. Not until it finally opened. And even the state of undress of the woman who answered (not unexpected, anyway), couldn't keep her from blurting out as soon as the door opened: "Why did you send Henry to find me?"

Dark lips parted in anger, a brow crossed from the rough treatment to her door alone only lowered further at the demand. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Emma smacked the door in irritation. "Cut the crap, Regina! You sent Henry to find me! You gave him the credit card to hunt me down and probably even put him on the damn bus! Why?"

Regina swallowed, unprepared or unused to such a display. Or maybe she was just tired of pretending. "...Because of Henry," she finally said. She appeared to deflate just a little. Emma was about to ask what she meant, but Regina just gave another sigh and opened the door wider. "...Come on in."

"I take it you've decided to stay?" Regina called over her shoulder as soon as Emma had entered, going immediately to her sidebar and pouring two healthy glasses of cider.

Emma raised an eyebrow at the change in subject, but let it slide for now. They'd get back to Henry eventually, she was sure. "Yeah."

"Good."

She couldn't believe her ears. "'Good?' You practically threatened me to leave!"

Regina only laughed, handing her a glass of cider and then moving to sit in her chair. "Of course I did, dear. I read your file. And all my pushing you away only made you want to stay more. Didn't it?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

"Then it worked." Grinning, Regina sipped her cider, leaning back on her chair comfortably. "I suppose he had you kicked out of the inn?"

Emma blinked, a bit floored. She had to wonder how often this sort of thing happened. Or if Regina just really, really knew Gold that well. Anything was possible. She had been married to him, after all. "...Yeah," she finally answered. "And there's no vacancies in town. None. Is that normal?"

Regina only raised an eyebrow. "For those who have made an enemy of my ex-husband? Oh yes."

"Ah. Right. He owns the town."

"Most of it, yes. There are... one or two exceptions."

A beat.

Emma looked down at the glass in her hand, taking a breath before speaking again. "I found your marriage license today." Regina said nothing, though her face fell a bit, and she covered it by looking away. Emma continued: "...Can I ask you something?"

A silence, and then the brunette sighed. "If you like."

"...You and him. Did you ever...?"

Regina laughed, and it was a dull, bitter kind of sound. That wasn't the question she had been expecting. "Doesn't seem my type, does he?"

"Yeah, not really."

An arched eyebrow, the laughter gone as quickly as it had come. "And what would you know about my 'type,' Miss Swan?"

She froze mid-swallow. "I... uh.."

Another laugh. It was amazing, what that sound did to Emma's insides. Regina had a lovely laugh, when it was all bitter-sounding. "Relax, dear. You're right, of course," she smiled again, and took another sip of her cider, letting the fiery liquid warm a path to her belly before she spoke again. Her voice was quieter again. "We have ...many things in common, he and I. Too much, I think." Another little silence. Regina seemed lost in her thoughts, and then she shrugged herself out of them. "But if you're asking if we were together because I ever loved him? The answer would be a resounding 'no.' Ours was only ever a marriage of convenience."

Emma couldn't help but press. "...And?"

Brown eyes looked away then, out the window. "...I became inconvenient." There was an awkwardly long moment of silence. The clock on the wall slowly began to chime. Startled, Emma stared at it. Regina, too, glanced at as if having forgotten it existed. And then an odd little smirk appeared on her face. "Tell me, Miss Swan: what did you think of Forbidden Fruit?"

A little thrown by the question, Emma tried not to choke on her cider. Which wasn't as good as Pam's drink, but it was still very tasty. "It's... um... nice," she offered. "Why, do you get a bonus for people saying good things about your workplace or something?"

"Oh, I don't work there, dear," Regina chuckled, and there was a fair bit of pride in her voice when she next spoke. Emma hadn't heard that in her voice before. It was nice.

"I own it."

* * *

…

* * *

_Even still being choked by Rumpelstiltskin, Regina had clung to some hidden inner strength. Or maybe it had come from a now vacant spot on the mayor's desk. A place that had recently been home to a picture of her nine-year-old. "Henry..." she wheezed out. "...Don't take him from me."_

_Rumpel sneered. And then he considered it. Slowly, he released her neck, allowing her to once again draw full breath. And he smiled again. "Very well," he agreed, and even while her hand rose to her throat to take in gasping breaths, Regina's relief and shock were practically palpable. He raised his hand over the parchment again. "You can keep possession of Henry Mills, Your Majesty."_

_The earth shook once again. And suddenly Regina was no longer in his office. Gone, he knew, to the only thing he had just agreed to allow her to keep._

_Henry Mills. Senior._

_He wished he could see her face when she realized she'd just been plopped in the middle of the cemetery. He wondered if she'd run inside the tomb, looking for the boy, before she realized what he'd done._

_Chuckling to himself once again, his fingers skimmed the parchment a final time, almost as an afterthought. He had already taken her happy ending. It was but the work of a moment to also take her true memory._


	8. Use Your Sense, Save Your Cents

**VIII**

**Title: Use Your Sense, Save Your Cents**

_A/N: I am so very, very sorry for the length of time between updates on this one. This chapter did not want to be written. But a great thank you and hello to all the new followers it has somehow miraculously received even without regular updates, rest assured I've not forgotten this one, and have every intention of finishing._

_I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review if you so choose._

_Un-betaed, all mistakes are mine._

_~M_

* * *

Ultimately, Emma was not really a 'beat around the bush' kind of girl. Subtlety had never been one of her strong suits. It hadn't taken long for her to tire of other talk, so when there was a lull and Regina took another sip of cider, she once again voiced the original reason she'd come. "You sent Henry to find me."

Taking a long moment to swallow, Regina then placed her cider back on the table, brushing a a strand of her hair out of her face. Her legs crossed. "I did," she admitted. There was no real reason to hide it any longer, now she knew Emma was going to stay.

Frowning, Emma felt a black slice of rage beginning to slip its way into her. Her hands clenched into white-knuckled fists. She felt the urge to hit something. Or break a toaster. "You manipulated me."

Regina actually laughed at that, head falling back slightly and eyes darting to the ceiling and then back down. "I manipulate everyone, dear. Don't sound so surprised."

With a growl, the blonde rose from her chair, nearly toppling it in the process, and surged forward. Her hands gripped Regina;s shoulders before the other woman could respond, pressing the brunette down into her chair. "Why? Why the hell did you want me to come here?!"

Wincing at the manhandling, Regina nevertheless made no move to stop the blonde. She just sighed. A variety of answers came to mind. Just because there was no reason to hide this answer did not make any of them easier to say. She looked away, at the floor, at her glass on the table, anywhere but into green, demanding eyes. And, finally, she settled on a simple: "Because I need you."

Emma blinked, eyes going wide in a very good impression of an owl. Surprised by the honesty and the answer itself, her hands dropped from the older woman's shoulders, and she reeled backwards. "...You what?" No one had ever needed her before. Hell, no one had ever so much as _wanted _her before.

A hand slid through dark hair as Regina idly attempted to distract herself again. "...Henry," she began, and faltered. She turned back to the younger woman. This next part was very important, and while she wanted nothing more than to keep avoiding those eyes, she needed Emma to understand just how serious she was. And the blonde appeared lost in her own emotional turmoil. "He _needs _to get away from Gold. And believe me when I say I have exhausted _every _other option. But he cannot stay with that... with Gold."

"...So why do you need me?" Emma managed to ask after a moment.

Regina hesitated before answering. "I'd hoped that your presence would be enough to convince Gold that Henry was too much of a hassle to use as-" she trailed off, and then cleared her throat before starting again. "...To keep. And with you here... well, you can put enough pressure on him to make him realize he may as well just give him up."

"Why would he do that? I don't have any legal standing to-"

"Henry's adoption was not entirely legal," Regina interjected. "I can give you specifics, but I'm sure Gold arranged it purposefully with the intention of taking him from me eventually, but... other circumstances much better enabled him to do that. The sole reason he has Henry in the first place is because he wants me to suffer. And he is very used to getting his way, even if it takes years of manipulating and plotting and underhandedness to do it. So if i just take Henry and run, he'll follow me. Track me to the ends of the earth itself, if he has to, but he'll find me. Which is why _you_ need to take him. Gold won't care about _you._"

Emma rubbed at her temples. This was all getting a bit much. "So... you brought me here because you want me to take your son?"

"Of course not!" the older woman nearly shouted, surprising the blonde with the ferocity of the statement. "...Of course not," she said again, quieter. "He's my _son_," she insisted. "But Henry needs to get away from _him_. And despite everything I've tried, I can't do that. Not legally. Not any way that would stick. You can."

Wanting to pull out her own hair, the blonde groaned. "What makes you think I wouldn't just try to take Henry for myself and just run?"

Regina rose from her chair slowly. Elegantly, looking almost like a cobra uncoiling in its ascent. Just as dangerous. "...Should you decide on that course of action, Miss Swan, _I _will hunt _you_ down and utterly destroy you. If it is the last thing I do."

"I'm not just going to get him away from Gold and hand him over to you, Regina," Emma tried to remain unaffected by the threat, meeting the dark eyes without blinking.

That gave the older woman pause, Emma noted with what was almost satisfaction. Perhaps she hadn't considered _every _aspect of this. The brunette's arms crossed in front of her chest as she deliberated, finally looking up. "If you want to continue to be a fixture in Henry's life... I'm sure we can find some... arrangement, Miss Swan."

Emma raised a brow, genuinely curious. If still a bit uncertain. "Like what?"

A smile from the older woman, different from those before. More calculating, more smug. Her head turned slightly to the side, and her voice went up in tone, changing the subject with an incredibly sweet-sounding: "Where are you planning to stay?"

Warily, Emma shrugged, not sure she trusted that change. "In my car, I guess. We went over that, remember? Storybrooke isn't high on the leasing to people who cross the guy who owns the town. ...Why?" Regina didn't answer immediately, merely raising an eyebrow and waving her hand. Gesturing around the room. Emma's mouth dropped open. "Stay here?" she inferred, eyes wide. "With you?" Inside, her mind started to whirl into panic mode, eyes darting to the door in an unmistakable urge to run.

Regina just shrugged, as if it didn't matter to her one way or the other. "A part of the town that Gold does not own," she offered. "And I do have a spare room."

Swallowing nervously, Emma still eyed the door before taking a deep breath and glancing back at the other woman. "Yeah, I... don't know that that's a great idea. I'm ...not much of a roommate person." Not to mention Regina had just admitted to manipulating the hell out of both Emma herself and ...their son. She wasn't quite sure how she should take the offer to live with the older woman, right after that. But her initial reaction didn't just scream 'do it.'

Silent for a moment, the brunette nodded with a small sigh. Disappointment? No, it couldn't be. But seconds later, that smile was back on the brunette's face. "Suit yourself."

There was an awkward silence, broken by the beep pf an alarm. Regina glanced at the clock on the wall. "I have to get ready. It's nearly time to get to the club." She sighed, and ran a hand through her hair before glancing over once again at the blonde, running her eyes over jean-clad legs and red leather jacket. "I don't suppose..." A strange sort of smile slid over her face. "Would you care to join me?"

Emma _definitely _didn't trust that smile. But something in Regina's eyes was incredibly enticing. And she had enjoyed herself, the night before. What the hell, going to the club again wouldn't hurt. Anything, really, to stop having this conversation. "Sure," she muttered. "I could use another of Pam's drinks."

A slow, secretive smirk crept over Regina's face. "Oh, I think you might find another reason to stay besides the drinks."

"Like what?" Emma raised her eyebrows, intrigued.

That eyebrow arced again, dark eyes sliding down Emma's face. Regina's amusement was nearly palpable. "...It's Wednesday, dear."

* * *

...

* * *

Regina emerged from her bedroom in an almost shockingly modest little black dress and black pumps. Three-quarter length sleeves and high, gathered shoulders. It was... well, it looked great, but not at all what Emma had been expecting. Not like what she'd worn the previous evening. The brunette offered to drive, and Emma didn't refuse. She wasn't entirely sure she'd be able to find the club again anyway. The location was pretty remote.

They arrived about an hour after the club had actually opened. Which, she understood, was Regina's usual policy. When she saw the number of cars parked outside, Emma had to just stare for a moment. The inside of the club was similarly packed, filled with far more patrons than had been there the previous evening. And they were all... really happy to see Regina, practically cheering when she strode through the doors, a knowing smirk set firmly onto her lips.

Emma just watched her go, trying to tell herself she was not studying the brunette's ass but merely marveling at the strange number of roles the older woman played. She entered the club proper, intent on making her way through the surprising number of people and get her drink. She felt she needed it. She managed to avoid another run-in with the klutzy Astrid again (though it was a near-thing), and helped the girl steady her tray of drinks before finally getting to the bar.

Pam didn't seem all that surprised to see her, simply raking those ice-blue eyes over her tank and jeans with a look. "Back again," she observed, raising a knowing eyebrow as she mixed up Emma's drink. "You picked the right night."

"Why? Something special go down on Wednesdays?" From the way Regina had said it earlier, she had a feeling there was.

"You'll see," Pam smiled enigmatically at her, handed her the drink, and then moved on to the next customer in line.

Brow furrowed, Emma sipped her drink, falling into a little happy world of her own as the exquisite concoction flitted over her tastebuds. When she surfaced back after the first swallow, she heard a familiar voice calling her name over the noise of the crowd.

"Hey, Emma!"

"Ruby!" Emma smiled, grateful to see someone she knew and actually liked. She didn't even mind (much) when the waitress pulled her into a hug.

"Told ya you'd like it here." Ruby winked playfully. Not that she could say much, really. It was her second time here in two days as well.

A fact that Emma pointed out to her while the brunette sipped her cherry concoction.

"Well, yeah!" Ruby answered over the loudness of the music and threw back the rest of the drink she'd already grabbed from Pam. "It's Wednesday!"

Emma felt her brow furrow. "You're the third person to tell me that. Why does that ma-" Her words froze as suddenly the music died around them. The lights went dark. The room hushed into silence as everyone looked around for a moment, and then all eyes flitted to the catwalk of a stage that led to the main pole in the room.

Even in the darkness, she could feel Ruby's grin as the waitress leaned closer to her, whispering excitedly: "You never miss a Wednesday at Forbidden Fruit."

Before Emma could ask why, the lights gradually began to glow back to life, but only those back-lighting the stage. The music began again, playing the opening chords to a new song, rather than the one that had just been interrupted. An acoustic guitar played a riff, a sensual, slow beat began to blare out from the speakers, and Emma felt her body beginning to sway of its own accord. She knew this song.

"Black Velvet" took over the room. What followed was, Emma was sure, both the longest and shortest four minutes and fifty seconds of her life.

The sound of high heels on wood began to click imperiously in time to the music. As the voice of Alannah Myles began to echo its haunting 'oooh,' the curtains of the stage were swept to the side. And Emma's jaw dropped to the floor. She had never before truly understood the phrase 'owning the stage,' but god, she did now.

Out strode Regina Mills. She was back-lit only, her silhouette starkly contrasting the purple-red glow of the curtain behind her, still rippling from her entry. She paused, allowing her hands to wander over her hips and middle, moving them up to her face. In silhouette, the lines her body was making were all the more profound.

Regina sauntered her way across the stage leisurely, as if she decided, and not the music, when she would reach the pole. Just as the vocals began, her hand touched the pole and she arced towards it, undulating her body in an s-curve and then straightening again.

The spotlights flared into being, and Emma could have sworn that the entirety of the club took a collective gasp. Sometime between dropping the blonde off at the door and now, Regina had completely changed outfits. A high-cut bolero jacket rose above a short, corseted top, baring most of the brunette's midriff. Her lower half was covered by little more than bikini bottoms. Regina swung herself onto the pole with a spin, twisting around and spreading her legs wide. Thighs that Emma knew very well to be olive appeared pale in the light of the spotlight, contrasting heavily to the dark leather of her over-the-knee boots.

Gaining a bit of height, Regina bent her legs beneath her and gripped the pole with her knees, turning so that her backside faced most of the audience. Her back straightened, body becoming taught, and then bent in half again, climbing further up the pole. She was straddling it now, keeping herself upright through the strength of her legs only. Her hands left the pole completely, and she extended them behind her, bending her body backwards and reaching down for the floor. She righted herself as the second stanza of the song began, gripping the pole tightly with her hands. Her torso arced, legs extending out, away from the pole, leaving it and doing the splits while vertically suspended in mid-air.

As she watched the brunette move, the blonde felt every other concern in her head falling away, entranced. And incredibly impressed; Regina was extremely good at this. Emma had known a few pole dancers from the various places she'd lived; she knew that the holds and extensions the brunette was preforming took an insane amount of athleticism and practice, and yet Regina was making it look effortless. Like she'd been doing it for years.

She was up-side down, now, arms spread as wide as they could go on the pole, one leg braced against the metal up high, the other bent out in a forty-five degree angle into the air. Turning the outstretched leg back inwards and down, the booted heel made contact with the pole, and she once again did the splits along the length of it. Her arm left her midriff, lifting upwards in a fluid gesture before joining the other above her head. The lead-up to the first chorus was beginning, and Regina sped her motions just a bit. Now right-side up again, she grasped the pole with both hands, swinging her legs down to cross over the metal, supporting herself by them instead and leaving her hands once again free. Her fingers danced their way to the center of her chest, undoing the hooks of her bolero jacket with a flourish that would do any stripper proud.

The crowd, Emma and Ruby included, went wild, cheering and drowning out even the loudest of Alannah's notes during the chorus. Grabbing the pole with both hands, one high, one low, Regina thrust her legs out to either side, and slid dramatically all the way down in a single movement, right as the chorus ended. Taking advantage of the pure instrumental part of the song to fully remove the jacket and let it fall to the floor, Regina rose to her hands and knees, providing a very nice view indeed of breasts now contained only by the corset. She hopped back to her feet in time with the resuming of the vocals, pulling herself back onto the pole and quickly climbing to the very top with sensual flair.

Reaching the top, she kicked her legs out forward, placing the pole directly next to her center. She bent forward, then back, body folding in half and then curling around to leave her upside down once more, held up only by her thighs. She held the pose for a few seconds, then brought her hands back to the metal surface and slid nearly all the way down to the floor again. The second chorus ended, leaving the vocals silent for the guitar solo.

Regina's feet hit the ground and she took a moment, bending herself around in dramatic poses, but Emma knew she was giving her muscles a tiny respite. Something big was about to happen next, she guessed, not only because she the song was nearing its crescendo. Regina's hands caressed the pole again, one high above her head and the other at midriff level. Her legs kicked up and forward, keeping thighs together, and she spun around the pole like a serpent, all curves. Her legs spread, her body folded up again, and she was once more suspended inverted. Still spinning, she hooked an inner knee around the pole, both hands flying down towards the ground. Her second leg bent back as well, nearly touching her head. A hand grabbed the flat of her boot, stretching herself. All while still spinning, and the second chorus ended with her body bent over on itself.

'Black Velvet' was coming to the final repeat of the chorus- the loudest and most emphatic part. Regina got out of the pose, kicked her legs out to do the splits once more only to hook both ankles behind her. Spread legs on one side of the pole and her shoulders on the other, Regina released her hands, lifting them over her head, and holding the position. Then palms returned to the pole, ankles were released from the hold only for thighs to once more take over. Held suspended at the very top of the pole, the brunette's torso reclined with her head towards the floor. The song was nearly over, the final three words of the chorus in their repeats and Regina took a moment to run her hands over her stomach and chest while she was still upside-down, traveling all the way up to her face and hair. They slipped beyond to grip the pole behind her head. Her legs swung down, fully unbent and on either side, and then curled at the knee. Regina's arms and head came up as if in some bizarre form of supplication right as Alannah was finishing her last 'if you please.'

The light shone directly on Regina's face for a moment, just before she slid down to hit the floor knees first. Emma eyes widened as she stared only at that face, everything else forgotten.

Regina was crying.

Before she could dwell on the realization, the brunette ducked her head into her chest, arms still outstretched and raising up, and Emma had to wonder if she'd imagined it, or just seen sweat beading and fallen from her brow. The final notes of the back-beat faded into nothingness, the spotlights focused on the curled-in form of Regina's body grew smaller and smaller and then they dimmed completely.

The club burst into cheers, loud and overwhelming. Ruby was among the most emphatic voice. When the normal lights of the club resumed, Regina was back on her feet, sweat glistening over her entire body. Everywhere except her face, Emma noticed. Her cheeks were dry, as if they'd just been wiped.

After the dance, the crowd began to filter out until it had trickled down to a much more manageable level. Blue's girls took turns on the pole, and they were good, some of them very good, but none of them really inspired the same amount of awe that Regina had. It was almost as if they were too... restrained. Like they'd spent half their lives in a convent or something. Great technical skill, but very little... passion.

Emma stayed close to Ruby, but her overall mood had drastically taken a sour turn. It was all she could do to keep herself at least partially engaged in the waitress' buzzing conversation, largely focused on the dance they'd just seen.

Emma waited until Ruby was taking a sip of her third drink to ask a question burning on her mind. "Ruby, does Regina dance every Wednesday?"

"Well, yeah. It's why everyone comes. They look forward to it."

She nodded, having thought as much. A dark, sinking feeling had settled into the bottom of her stomach. Not that she hadn't loved watching Regina dance, but Emma didn't think she'd be coming back here on Wednesdays anymore.

* * *

By the time she tapped Emma on the shoulder and asked if she was ready to go, Regina had changed back into the black dress. She looked tired and weary, like every ounce of energy in her body had been wrung out of her. But she managed a smile when Ruby turned to look at her with wide, excited eyes.

"Oh! Um... hi Madam Mills!"

"Miss Lucas," she acknowledged with a turn of her head. "Enjoying yourself?"

"Always! Especially on Wednesdays. I look forward to it all week!"

For a moment, Emma almost swore she saw a flash of something besides weariness making itself known in Regina's eyes, but it was quickly gone. "Yes," said the older brunette, "I'm sure you're not the only one."

Deciding she'd seen enough of where this was going, Emma quickly settled her tab with Pam (not much, she'd only had two drinks), and made to follow the older brunette outside after a quick goodbye to Ruby, not missing the inquisitive look that was burning through the younger brunette, just dying to know why Emma was leaving with Regina, of all people. She promised to drop by the diner later.

The drive back to Regina's house was spent in what, to Emma, was a very awkward silence.

Finally unable to bear it any longer, the blonde sighed. "You're amazing at that, you know," she offered. No hint of scorn or the wide-eyed adoration she was probably used to, just a genuine statement of fact.

Regina practically snarled. "Oh, I _know_." It should have been a preen, an acknowledgment that why yes, thank you, Regina _was _an amazing pole dancer. But it wasn't.

"...You _do _hate it," Emma breathed in an astonished whisper, her suspicions confirmed. The older woman said nothing. "Why the hell do you do it, then?"

"...It keeps the club running, Miss Swan. Blue and her girls are good, but not quite good enough. The club nearly went under, until I decided drastic measures were needed. Apparently the people of Storybrooke just _love _watching their former mayor take to the pole every Wednesday." Her tone held all the affection of a boiling pot of sulfuric acid.

"So even though you hate it, you do... that... every Wednesday, for the club?"

"Don't be absurd, Miss Swan," Regina actually bothered to look at her, taking her eyes off the road for a split second. "I do it for Henry."

"Henry?"

"Gold," and she spat out the name like the curse she felt it was, "took everything from me. My position, my home, my son. But not the club. Why do you think that is?"

The blonde shook her head, without an answer.

"Because he knows I detest it. He _wants _me to run it, wants me to dance. And I know he wants that, so I have to do it, or else..." she trailed off.

Emma didn't need to hear the end of the sentence to know where Regina had been going with it. "You think he'll hurt Henry if you don't do everything he wants?"

"Oh, no, Miss Swan." Regina's voice was ice-cold. "I know he will."

* * *

...

* * *

It only took one night of reflection for Emma to admit that sleeping in her car was not the best option she had. So it was with a slightly heavy hand that she knocked on the door to Regina's the next morning, and a bit awkwardly accepted the invitation to move in. If Regina was willing to go through... all that she did for their son, the least Emma could do was try to figure out more of the specifics of what Regina wanted from her.

Emma's cellphone rang while Regina was in the shower. Only Mary Margaret, Ruby and Henry had her number, so the blonde answered it without looking to see the number.

And a few seconds later, she desperately wished she'd checked.

"Good morning, Miss Swan." The voice was unfamiliar. A middle-aged sounding woman, with a voice you wanted to trust.

But Emma did not trust easily. "Who the hell is this?" she demanded.

"The secretary of Mayor Gold, dear. He has a message for your... new landlady."

Emma's heart sunk like a stone in her chest. "Why not call her?"

A pause. "I think you know the answer to that. Now, here is what you are to tell her."

* * *

Regina came out of the shower to see Emma glaring down at her recently hung-up phone like it had betrayed her. "...Who was that?" she asked, hesitantly, but she felt she already knew the answer.

Emma looked up, startled, at the voice. She swallowed roughly. "...The mayor's office. He... um... wants to have another 'chat' with you. Tomorrow."

Regina almost laughed, shaking her head. "Frankly, I'm surprised it took him this long." A shiver of revulsion crept up her spine.

Catching the shudder but not knowing its meaning, Emma nevertheless put a hesitant hand on Regina's shoulder. "Hey," she murmured in what she hoped was a soothing way. "You know don't _have_ to go."

The brunette looked at her with dead eyes. Broken. "Yes, Miss Swan. I do."


	9. Flesh is Weak, Blood is Cheap

**Chapter IX: Flesh is Weak, Blood is Cheap**

Trigger warnings: Child abuse, spousal abuse, references to rape and incestuous rape.

_Disclaimer: I sadly don't own them._

_My thanks to the incomparable killer-elephants for, as always, keeping me from embarrassing myself. Any remaining mistakes are mine._

* * *

...

* * *

Regina left the shower the next morning to find the aroma of a fresh pot of coffee wafting through her home. Having a roommate apparently had more benefits than she'd first thought. She smiled a little at it, but did not seek out its source; not yet. She allowed herself no detours in her usual morning routine. Not with... what she knew would happen today.

She hated it when Gold gave her an entire day's notice before a 'chat.' Hated it almost as much as she hated the act itself, and she was sure Gold knew it. Giving her so much time to think and dwell on what she really had no control to stop was undoubtedly a large part of why he felt the need in the first place. Her routine, she found, was the only way she had to really cope with it.

After showering, she spread lotion over the skin most likely to show during the day. The Maine air could get quite cold and dry at this time of year, and even if the next Wednesday wasn't for another six days, no one ever wanted to see a pole dancer with dry skin. Next, she quickly dressed in the clothes she'd set aside the night before: a simple black dress to be worn with a blazer, knee high boots and, with a shudder of revulsion upon remembering why she'd need them, her garters. She dressed without fuss, and then styled her hair to fall in simple, easy waves, the ends naturally curling in a twenties-style flip. She didn't bother with the flat iron to tame them; she would take another shower... afterward, after all. And while it helped her own state of mind to arrive at the office looking as impeccable as she always had when it had been _her _office, there was no need to get fancy now. Not for him.

She wasn't looking forward to having to face Miss Swan again this morning, though. That wasn't part of her routine. Better to just leave, get _it_ over with, return for her shower and then head to the club and lose herself in Mal. Like always. She could face her son's birth mother after that, probably, and it would be easier. Once her composure was once again her own.

Though no exact description had been given, Regina held no illusions to the fact that the blonde had probably guessed what exactly went on between herself and Gold during these 'chats.' The shuddering waves of revulsion that swept through her at every mention of the man was probably evidence enough. When she finally left her bedroom, prepped and as ready as she could make herself for what lay ahead, the blond was not in the kitchen. But the coffee was still fresh. Further investigation of the house yielded no sign of Emma. Evidently, Miss Swan had already left for the day to do... whatever it was she did during the day.

Though the evidence that her home was now not only her own was obvious, not just in the presence of coffee. Emma's red leather jacket was flung over the back of a chair, a white note taped to its back with a blocky letter 'R' on the front of it. With a furrowed brow, Regina took the final sip of her coffee, making sure to rinse the cup in the sink before returning to the note and ripping it off the jacket.

_Gonna be a cold one. You're welcome to wear this._

_~E_

Her brow only furrowed deeper, the pads of her fingers lightly tracing over the note and then the jacket itself. She stared at both in silence for a long, long moment. A quizzical kind of smile spread itself over her lips and she pulled the jacket off the chair.

* * *

**…**

* * *

"Morning, kid."

Henry turned on his walk to school, a huge smile splitting his face as his birth mother rounded a corner and fell into step with him.

"You're still here!" He wrapped his arms around her tightly.

She returned the gesture far less awkwardly than her earlier attempts, but moved with the hug so that she was not actually hindering him on his way to school. "Yeah, and I'm not leaving."

That statement normally would have scared the hell out of her. Now, it only settled in her stomach like a grim sort of determination. A reminder, maybe, that for the first time in her life, there was something she actually _needed _to do. She needed to get Henry away from Gold. And, if she could manage it, she wanted to see about getting _Regina _away from him, too. Sure, she was still incredibly pissed at the older woman for hunting her down and dragging her into this mess in the first place, but now that she was here and had met her son, she couldn't exactly say no to helping him. She'd stayed initially to make sure Henry was okay. As long as he stayed with Gold, he wasn't. And as long as Gold still held Henry over her head, Regina wasn't okay, either, and Henry needed her to be. She was the only mother the kid had ever known, and nothing Emma had seen had given her any reason to think Regina was a bad one.

"But I heard him say that he kicked you out of Granny's. Where are you staying?"

Emma shrugged, as if it were unimportant. "With your Mom for now."

"Henry, I'm going to ask you a few questions, and I want you to be completely honest with me, okay? I promise I won't get upset, and I won't tell anyone, but I need you to tell me the truth, okay?"

His head tilted to the side in question, but he gave a slow nod. "Okay. ...Is it about Operation: Cobra?"

Considering for a moment, Emma shoved her hands in the rear pockets of her jeans. Even under the blue leather jacket she was wearing, she was cold, and had the fleeting thought to wonder if Regina had accepted her offer this morning or not. "Kinda, I guess. I guess I'm trying to find out why Mr. Gold-"

"You mean Rumpelstiltskin."

Nodding, Emma just rolled with the punches and continued, "Right, Rumpelstiltskin- why he's so... upset with your Mom. Do you know?"

Henry shook his head. "It's not in the book."

"Do you know anything about why he might be so mad at her... y'know, _here_? Like why they got divorced, or, hell, married in the first place?"

Henry shrugged as if that part wasn't important. And maybe, to him, it wasn't. "It's all part of the curse. Mom cast it, but he changed it because he made it in the first place."

"Right." Sighing, Emma ran a hand through her hair, wrapping her arms around herself to help keep out the chill. She cleared her throat, unsure of how really to ask the question that was most bothering her. She looked directly in his face, superpower at the ready in case she needed it. "Henry," she began hesitantly, " ... has he ever hurt you?"

Henry looked away, unable to meet her eyes. They walked a full block in silence, and Emma didn't press. "Once," he said finally, looking at his shoes like they were to blame. "I'd forgotten to put my shoes away, and he..." he trailed off, voice gone dry. Emma gave him a hug, not needing to hear anything else. But Henry needed to say it. "...with his belt," he murmured. "But then Mom was there, and she got in the way the next time he swung it. She made him hurt her instead." Emma could see the tears building behind his eyes. "...You have to break the curse. You have to stop him!"

"...I will, kid. I don't know how, yet. But I will."

* * *

**…**

* * *

With a steadying breath and her head held high, Regina attempted to quell the feeling of disgust that rose in her throat. A burst of cold wind ran through the hall, and she pulled Emma's jacket a little tighter over her shoulders. She didn't know what, exactly, had compelled her to accept the offer such as it was. She'd very nearly left with the jacket still on the back of her chair. But she'd changed her mind at the last moment, swapped out the leather in place of her more usual burgundy blazer and left the house before she could think better of it. The jacket smelled of Emma- old leather and cinnamon, hot cocoa and vanilla shampoo. The weight of it on her shoulders was oddly comforting. As if trying to tell her that she didn't have to bear this alone.

She strode into the Mayor's office as if it were still hers to command, like a queen.

* * *

Typing furiously at her computer, Gold's receptionist paused in her work to glance up at the opening door. In a glance, Cora took in Regina's bearing, the upturned position of her head, and felt a sort of pride blooming in her. Even if Regina had no idea of her identity, she could still be at least a little proud of how her daughter faced the consequences she so rightly deserved. Her lips pursed, however, at seeing the jacket. What the hell was the girl playing at, wearing something that tacky? "Mrs. Gold," she deliberately taunted the younger brunette, knowing that the name more than anything else would eat away at Regina's composure. She could almost hear Regina's head snap in her direction, the glare in those dark eyes enough to peel paint. Cora met it easily, her own eyes narrowing and running over the length of Regina's body. Apart from the appalling jacket, Regina looked just as she should. "How nice to see you. May I take your jacket?"

"You may not," Regina spat out with what was probably as much venom as she could muster. Ignoring the obvious ogling, Regina declined to return the pleasantry, taking a seat. "Just tell him I'm here," she hissed. The jacket was pulled even tighter around her shoulders, and Regina took a slow, deep breath. As if she was drawing strength from it.

Cora felt her eyes narrow further, but smiled all the same. "Delighted." The older woman knocked twice on the heavy oaken door to the inner office, and popped her head in after Gold's clipped shout. "She's here."

* * *

**…**

* * *

_Okay, Swan, _Emma told herself as she stepped into the Sheriff's office._ First step. Talk to Graham._ She put on a smile and knocked on the door jamb.

Looking up from his paperwork, Graham quickly stood up, brushing crumbs of what may have once been a bearclaw off his jacket. "Emma," he grinned. "What can I do for you?"

She smiled back, and took a breath before reaching into the pocket of her jacket and pulling out a receiver for an audio bug. The transmitter end of which, she knew, was in her other jacket.

The one Regina was wearing.

* * *

**…**

* * *

"Wonderful," came Gold's voice from within. "Send her in."

Regina had to raise an eyebrow at the entire exchange. What was the point when there was a perfectly good intercom system built into the phone? It was very obviously for her benefit, but why? She rose without waiting to be told by the receptionist, avoiding the way the older woman was looking at her. It was unnerving and she wasn't entirely sure why, but she desperately wanted the other woman _gone. _Instead of worrying more about her, though, she turned her attention towards Gold, squaring her shoulders beneath Emma's jacket. She could do this. She would do this, and it would not break her. _He _would never break her.

A small smile tugged at the corners of Gold's mouth. Standing from behind the desk that had been hers, he ran his eyes over her hungrily, and Regina endured it in stony silence. He crossed to the front of the desk, standing directly in front of his ex-wife. The head of his cane raised in his hand to tap patronizingly against the lapel of the jacket. "Interesting choice of outerwear, Regina," he commented dryly. "Have you and your new roommate already progressed to the point of sharing clothes?"

Regina fought the urge to roll her eyes. "Why not?" she quipped. "We already share a son." Better to remain above it all, she told herself. Let it wash over her like the shower she knew she would take right after this. Just get through it, and then she could run to the club and wash herself of his touch, and Mal would be there to make her forget, for a while. It was what she always did, and it would be okay. Until the next time.

"Well, dearie," he smirked, "since you seem to have no issues with... sharing... " he trailed off, and the smile he shot her was enough to make her blood run cold. He shot a significant look behind her, at the receptionist still standing near the door. "Stay, Cora."

Regina's mouth fell open, her eyes widening. Gold, she could handle. She knew his usual tricks, knew how to ignore them and escape to a safe haven in her own mind. But this... though she didn't know the woman in front of her, she could tell just by looking at her that she would somehow be a hundred times worse. She felt more than saw the door finally close, watched with horror the reflection in Gold's eyes as the older brunette stepped up beside her and reached out a hand to place on her shoulder. She almost imagined that she could hear the sizzle, as if the touch physically burned. She felt little of it through the jacket, warm on her arms, protecting her, sort of. But Regina recoiled from it nonetheless, backing away from the touch and the older woman until her back hit the desk. "Don't touch me!" she hissed out.

A high, giggling sort of laugh escaped from Gold's lips. Regina whirled on him, and watched like a deer in headlights as his lips formed the word. "Please."

* * *

**...**

* * *

**Elsewhere**

"You have to let me go!"

"You know I can't."

"Goddammit, I'm the only one she has. I _have _to be there for her! You know what they're doing to her!"

"Yes, and it is the _only_ way this can work! You _must _stay out of it! It's for the greater good."

"Oh, yes. And you're so damn good at making those calls. Tell me, _fairy: _why is it her entire life you've never once answered her wishes?!"

"Regina is the price we all knew had to be paid. You knew this when we began. It's precisely _why _we began, remember? I know Rumpelstiltskin, you know Regina. You _know _it has to happen this way, Maleficent. Don't tell me you're backing out now."

"...No."

"Then sit still and let the Savior do the saving."

* * *

**...**

* * *

Regina stumbled as she entered her club, voice hitched, her makeup smeared from tears and god knew what else. Her entire body was shaking, the keys in her hand jangling violently. She barely even made it to the bathroom before retching, her stomach purging itself into the bowl of the toilet as if it would somehow help. Coughing, she finished, and practically ran to the shower she only ever used after shows. Her routine was broken anyway, and she very much wanted to be clean. The shower turned on with a protesting squeal of water through old pipes. She felt like it was screaming for her, maybe. Emitting the noises she had not allowed herself to make, despite every attempt made by Gold... and _her. _

She got under the water long before it was properly heated, but she couldn't be bothered to care. She'd set Emma's jacket down carefully to one side, intending to wipe it down thoroughly later. Everything else she was wearing, she tossed into the trash. She might burn it later. If she didn't drown herself in the shower first. She honestly didn't care if she did, so long as it got the touch of him and... that... _woman _off her skin.

It may well have been hours later when, finally scrubbed to the point that her skin was tingling from the rough treatment she'd given it, Regina finally allowed herself to leave the shower. She was still trembling, but only just. She needed Mal, and then she would be okay again. She needed the peace the blonde could grant her by letting her forget and relax into her touch.

Wordlessly, Regina padded with damp feet to her office and pulled on the extra set of clothes she always kept there. She'd have to replace them the next time she came, of course, but it felt infinitely better to be in clean clothes. She tugged Emma's jacket back on, too. Remarkably, it still felt safe. It still smelled like the blonde, and not... _them_.

Feeling slightly better, she took a steadying breath and stepped onto the club floor. It was silent. Utterly, completely silent. "...Mal?"

There was no answer.

She was alone.

Regina began to tremble again, all the good her shower had done completely evaporating.

* * *

**…**

* * *

How on earth she actually managed to drive herself home, Regina would never really know. But she nearly burst into a full-blown mess of herself again when she saw blonde hair turn with as the door to her house finally opened. Emma, of course, not Mal.

"Hey," Emma offered, rising from the couch and crossing her arms over her chest. She looked guilty.

Regina crumpled a bit, but forced a slight smile onto her lips and strode inside her house as regally as she could. Her brow furrowed at the look Emma was giving her. Or, rather, the jacket she still wore. She must want it back. "Miss Swan," she acknowledged quietly, regretfully sliding the red leather off her shoulders and handing it back to its owner.

She didn't take it, just reached into the pocket and pulled out the wire transmitter, a knowing, sad little look on her face.

For a moment, Regina just stared at the device, as if trying to place what it was. Then her eyes widened with understanding. She reeled on her feet, a sudden blast of anger powering through her. It was actually a relief, that anger, giving her brain more to focus on than dwelling on what had happened. "...You-!"

"I heard it. I heard it all," Emma met her eyes, calm and understanding. And sad.

Regina could hardly bear to answer that look, it was so filled with pity. She snarled, focusing on the anger instead. "How _dare _you?! You have no right to-!"

"I had to know, Regina," Emma cut her off, rising to her feet and standing directly in front of the other woman. Presenting a target for Regina was going to hit, if she needed it. "And now... well now I do, and I have the recording, so you can-"

The dark-haired woman waved her off. "Whatever you're going to say, don't. It isn't evidence, we can't use it. I can't press charges, Miss Swan."

Emma sputtered. "Of course you can! The man raped you, Regina!"

"Do you think I don't know that?!" She screamed, frantic and eyes blazing. Her mind was a cacophony of noise, a great clanging swell of emotion she couldn't hope to begin to sort through. Not on her own; without Mal. "Do you think this was the first time, Miss Swan? Or the second? Hell, even the tenth?! ...As long as Gold has Henry, I can do nothing against him. I'm powerless. And he-" she hesitated, closing her eyes and cringing at the flood of memories that threatened her mind. "...He knows it. So I let him. I let him do whatever he wants to do to me, hoping that it means he'll leave Henry alone. What the hell else can I do?"

A part of Emma definitely knew where Regina was coming from, and she did understand. But that didn't stop her from wanting to shake the other woman, or from screaming out: "Fight!"

"I did!" Regina insisted, "I sent for you."

"Well clearly I'm not enough," the blonde sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"_What else can I do?!"_ the former mayor could hold back no more and finally broke into sobs, tears falling down her cheek in slow rivers, her breath coming in stilted hiccups.

Emma felt her own anger fizzle out and die. She wasn't mad at Regina. She was mad as hell at the situation, sure, and wished she knew how to fix it. She'd never thought herself very good at consolation. She'd never really had the need to be very caring, because no one had ever much cared for her. But this... this was Henry's mother, and, for whatever reason, a woman she was beginning to actually like, despite their differences. "Hey," Emma whispered. Her hands did find her roommate's shoulders, but she ran her fingers over them in what she hoped was a soothing manner."I got a job today," she offered awkwardly. As if it would help. "Graham offered it to me, after I-"  
she trailed off, not wanting to tell Regina just yet that not only had she heard everything, but Graham had, too. And he now had the tape. "I'm Deputy now, she continued. "So we'll... figure out a way for you to get Henry back. Legally, so he won't be able to chase you any more. Somehow."

A deep, shaking breath escaped the other woman's chest, and then another. "I won't be able to pay you," Regina gasped out, stilted from the force of her tears.

Emma actually laughed at that, a little breathless and disbelieving. "We'll work something out," she smiled.

For an instant, Regina's reddened eyes widened, another layer of hurt added to the ones so recent in her mind. Then, finally, she gave an almost imperceptible nod. "...of course," she whispered, more to herself than Emma.

And when Emma would have questioned what the hell she meant, she was interrupted by the feel of lips suddenly pressed fervently against her own. For half a second, she wanted to go along with it. But her better sense prevailed, and she lurched away, staring at the brunette as if she'd gone mad. "What the hell are you doing?!"

"...I thought this what what you wanted, dear." Slowly, Regina blinked, confusion creeping in to join the rest of the emotions having a field day in her head.

Emma just stared. "What?! God, no! I meant... hell, I don't know, a break in paying rent or not having to do the dishes or something! Why the hell would you think I meant... that?!"

"...Everyone else does."

It was Emma's turn to let out a slow, steadying breath. Of course Regina would have gone there. Think of what she'd gone through tonight. "Look, not that your... um.. 'charms' aren't appreciated. But if you kiss me, if you... we... ever do... that... I want it to be because we both want to. Not because you feel like you have to."

"You want me to have a choice?" Regina blinked those big, voluminous brown eyes at her.

Emma had to look away or risk falling into them. God help her, she wanted Regina to kiss her again. "Yeah," she muttered, her mouth suddenly a desert.

Her head was moved by the gentle presence of a cool hand beneath her chin. Regina was forcing her to look back into those eyes. The brunette licked her lips. "...Then I choose this."

Shaking her head, the blonde pulled herself back, grasping Regina's hands in her own. "Regina, I-"

"Emma," she whispered, and the blonde felt her protests die in her throat. It was the first time Regina had ever said her name to her face. The brunette gave a small shudder, as if the next word she spoke physically took a great deal out of her to say: "Please..."

* * *

**...**

* * *

_A/N: Well, nine chapters in, and we finally get to the Swan Queen! We only had to get through Red Queen, hints of Red Swan, Gold Queen, Dragon Queen and Black Gold Queen first..._

_I know this was a rough, emotional chapter, but I do hope most of you enjoyed it. If you did, please let me know! Happier times are on their way... maybe._

_~M_


	10. But Before I Go

**X: But Before I Go**

_A/N: Here we are, gentle readers, the lovely chapter I know a lot of you were waiting for, and it was a great relief for me to finish for you. I hope you enjoy it! We're getting close to the end of this little story, believe it or not. I'm deciding now whether I want to continue it past my original vision, or stop where I'd planned to. But in either case, i think you'll like it._

_Thanks, as always, to my lovely beta killer-elephants, who got to keysmash at me more than usual this chapter._

_~M_

**Warning: A LOT of sex between two very consenting women below. If you don't wish to read the smut, feel free to skip to the next break.**_  
_

* * *

**_..._**

* * *

"Please... I want to forget."

Emma didn't immediately pull away when she leaned in for a second kiss. She kept her eyes open and she saw the genuine distress in the other woman's gaze, felt the way her lips trembled with every exhalation against her own. Without knowing how or why she had begun to actually kind of care about Regina, her arms were tightening around the brunette's hips, pulling her in for an embrace that was less about arousal and more about comforting.

She was nearly at a loss, knowing that just about a thousand things had to be going through Regina's head right now. When she felt the woman in her arms begin to shake with fresh sobs, the memory of what she'd heard happen in Gold's office stirred like a rousing snake, venomous and deadly in her mind. She felt her own tears begin to well, but blinked them back. "Regina," she sighed, "this isn't what you need."

Regina didn't respond verbally, but tears were streaking down her cheek when she pulled herself closer to the blonde. She began to trail a string of kisses down Emma's cheek, heading towards her collarbone.

"We really shouldn't," Emma murmured, but did nothing to halt the progression of Regina's lips down her neck, nipping and sucking on her pulse point. Her head fell to the side, her breathing now coming in gulping lungfuls of air. "Regina..." she murmured, and she tried to make it sound more like an advisement and less than a moan. "We should sto-"

"Please," Regina repeated, actually whimpering now. "Make me forget." She detested how vulnerable she was feeling. How fragile she had to be appearing. But countless encounters before now had taught her to use just about every tool she had to get what she wanted; it was why she was so good at manipulating others. And she could use this to her advantage, if she had to. With a sobering inhale, her sobs fell away, her breathing evening out. She pulled back a little to look directly into green eyes so very full of conflict. What she saw shocked her to her very core.

Emma desired her; that much was obvious. She was repeatedly trying to tell Regina to stop not because she didn't want her, but because she didn't want to _hurt _her. She earnestly seemed to not have another agenda. Regina didn't quite know how to take that. She didn't know anyone else who didn't at least want _this _of her for their own reasons. Her throat was dry when she tried to speak the first time. Swallowing, she tried again. "I want this," she whispered against Emma's lips, and she was shocked to discover that it was actually true. Her eyes held no deception when they poured into Emma's. "Emma... I need this."

The resulting kiss from the blonde caught her by surprise. Before, Regina had tried to keep herself in check, to keep her explorations of Emma's closed lips shy and uncertain. Emma, when instigating, had no such shyness. A shiver ran its way up Regina's spine, her body trembling in a surge of sensual need. She was so used to being the one to dominate things after one of her... sessions with Gold. With Mal or whoever else, sex happened on her terms, with her being the seductress. It was a role she played well. But as her own lips parted to Emma's tongue and the kiss deepened into a deeper, wetter, more demanding sort of play, she felt herself giving in. Her body curved next to Emma's, eliminating all sense of space between the two of them. Their tongues arched together, alternating between dueling for supremacy and exploring the other's feel and taste.

Slowly, olive fingers snaked up to the lapels of Emma's blue jacket. Regina broke the kiss, beginning to tug the jacket down and watching the blonde intently. If Emma was going to protest again, now would be the time she'd do it. Instead, the jacket hit the floor in a careless fling of motion, Emma's arms immediately returning to encircle Regina's waist and pull her close again, pressing kisses to the column of her throat. "If this is what you need," she heard the blonde murmur against her skin, "then I'm not going to refuse you."

Regina laughed, then, a hollow, haunting sound that Emma could feel reverberating through her neck as she kissed it. "Is that how you're rationalizing this?" the brunette questioned, her hands digging in to the bare, muscled flesh of Emma's shoulders. "A pity fuck?" she didn't pull away, not exactly. But Emma watched her eyes as Regina seemed to close herself off, the wall that hid her emotions coming back into existence.

She shook her head quickly, running her fingers lightly over the sensitive area at the small of Regina's back. "That isn't what I meant," she recanted, honestly. "I want you. God, I want you, Regina. I've wanted you since that first morning when you answered your door in little more than lace. Certainly when I fucking flirted with you at your club." She kissed her way around to the nape of the other woman's neck, nipping just a little, trying to bring Regina back. She wanted this, yes, but only if Regina wanted her for _her, _and not just because she was here. Enough had been taken away from the brunette without her truly wanting it, Emma knew. For this, she wanted Regina to be very willing.

The darker woman sighed at the touch, her head leaning forward to rest on Emma's shoulder. Her hands slid over the defined muscles of Emma's arms, running down to twist into the fabric of her ever-present white tank. "You did, didn't you?" Her fingers slipped beneath it, beginning to stroke against trembling, hidden flesh. She felt Emma's tongue travel the length of her collarbone, a trail of nips and fevered kisses forcing her head to the side and a pleasured gasp to work its way out of her mouth. She was no longer retreating, her attention and desire held in this moment. Emma wanted her for no other reason than because she wanted her. And she actually cared enough to double-check, even now, that that was the same reason Regina herself wanted this. She felt a surge of fresh desire bubble in her lower body. "Emma," she breathed, and the use of her name pulled the blonde's attention away from her neck. "The bedroom."

Stepping back enough to untangle her arms from around the brunette, Emma shot her a grin, and then grasped her hand in a gesture that said both 'I'm here for you' and 'I want you.' Tugging lightly, she pressed a kiss to the very inside of Regina's wrist, and then pulled the darker woman in the direction of the room that she was slowly coming to consider hers. At least for now. As she dropped Regina's hand to tug the door open, Regina slid her body forward, pressing herself close against the blonde's backside with enough force that the door slammed shut again, Emma's chest pressed against it. "No," Regina muttered, a hand gathering the curling gold of Emma's hair away from the back of her neck so that she could string molten kisses of her own along her nape. "_My _bedroom," she nearly growled, and sunk her teeth into the pale skin. She wanted Emma, and she wanted to forget, and she would be ruthless in that goal until she did.

Gasping, Emma felt her knees promptly turn to jelly. She leaned heavily against the door to her room, bracing her palms on its cool surface to steady herself. Regina was marking her, she knew, but she couldn't be bothered to care. Besides, no one would see as long as she wore her hair down. She felt hands dipping beneath her tank top again, felt Regina's teeth lessen a bit as those hands curved up to cup the swells of her breasts. Wonderful as it felt, Emma forced herself to push off from the door, turning herself around to face the other woman once more. They had to stop here, or they'd never make it to the bedroom. She gave a gentle shove to Regina's shoulders, guiding the other woman back one stumbling step. "Lead the way," she offered.

Eyes widening, Regina understood the full implication of those three words. Even now, Emma was still giving her a choice. She felt her heart pound faster and harder at the knowledge, a soft smile tugging at the edges of her lips. It was her turn to tug the blonde towards her and to her bedroom, her turn to pull away for a moment to open the door to her room. She paused, once entering, to drop Emma's hand and move to the bed to actually turn down the sheets. Emma found it almost endearing.

She also took advantage of the moment to spin the darker woman around and once again possess her mouth. Regina's lips widened into the kiss, a soft 'ah' of pleasure escaping into the blonde's mouth. Emma sucked lightly on Regina's lower lip, slid her tongue deeply into the warm, accepting mouth. Finally tearing herself away from those lips, kiss-swollen and pink, Emma's eyes were burning with her desires. It was frightening, almost, how much she wanted this.

Not to be outdone, Regina once more brought her attention slightly lower, nuzzling into the soft, sensitive spot beneath Emma's ear. "Emma," she purred, and her hands once more strayed to the base of the tank top, this time curling her fingers around and lifting it to reveal inch after tantalizing inch of her stomach. All she could think about in this moment was to lose herself in the forbidden fruit that Emma was offering to her. In her mind, she could already picture the blonde spread out on her sheets, writhing in all her naked glory as Regina buried her head between the thighs currently hidden by jeans.

As if reading that thought, Emma grunted, "I think we're both wearing too much." Her voice had dropped an octave, low and dark. Her hands drifted to join Regina's at her shirt, lifting the tank up and over her head. Though she desperately wanted to do much the same to Regina's dark, simple shirt, she forced herself to hold back. She still knew what the other woman had been through today, after all, and didn't want Regina to feel that she was taking too much rather than giving. She left Regina to deal with her own clothes, and focused her attention on the cumbersome process of pulling off her jeans.

A deep furrow danced its way across Regina's brow as Emma refused to aid in her disrobing, until realization dawned. She smiled, understanding the motive but disagreeing with it, and reached across the distance to the blonde to draw Emma's hands away from herself and to the top button of her shirt. She didn't say 'please,' but the intent was definitely there in her eyes. Her own hands dropped to replace Emma's at her jeans, popping the button open and dragging down the zipper.

Smiling with her own understanding, Emma methodically undid each button of Regina's shirt, pausing to stop the brunette from tugging down her jeans so she could divest her of the garment fully, leaving them both down to their bras. Kicking away her pants, Emma was left only in her red panties- the same she'd worn what felt like years ago when Regina had knocked on her door at Granny's, and a plain white bra. As Regina's pants likewise fell away, the blonde let her eyes roam approvingly over the wide expanses of olive skin. She'd seen it before, of course, but couldn't help but run the tips of her fingers over Regina's stomach, deceptively muscular from years of pole dancing.

The touch sent shivers racing through Regina and she arched her back into the touches, curling her own hands around Emma's naked midriff to run her fingernails up her spine. She pulled the blonde close against her, wanting -needing- the skin-to-skin contact, and had to moan when Emma's fingers became trapped between their bodies. Chuckling, the blonde managed to free her hands, twining them up to curl into the short locks of Regina's hair and then once more claim the tempting fullness of Regina's lips.

The kiss was tender and sweet, at least at first. Then another moan from Regina and she was deepening it, growing rougher and demanding. Regina's tongue plunged into Emma's mouth, ruthlessly coaxing pleasure as it ravaged over every inch. Not exploring, claiming. With a husky groan of her own, Emma stepped back enough to work her fingers under the still-present cups of Regina's bra, stroking through the lace and then beneath it, pulling the garment up until the soft flesh was freed. Her hands cupped the soft swells, running thumbs just under the aureoles with a needy sort of desire that made Regina gasp and arch her back further, offering up nipples already tight and aroused. With a wet pop, Emma separated from those demanding lips, locking eyes with the brunette and slowly lowering her head to suckle at one of the stiff points begging for attention.

A rough cry dragged its way out of Regina's throat as soft lips circled and sucked, Emma's tongue flicking over the tender bud of her nipple. Her fingers buried themselves in the corn silk of Emma's hair, tugging and pressing her mouth closer at the same time, Regina's head falling back with another delighted cry. A cry which only deepened when a flash of teeth suddenly nipped and grazed and sent a wave of fire burning through the brunette. "Oh, god!" she hissed, and felt the heat of her center nearly pulsing with need already. Regina wasn't exactly sure when she had fallen into a less controlling role, but found to her surprise that she honestly didn't mind sitting back and letting this unfold. Letting anyone else, even Mal, take the lead would ordinarily have been unthinkable, but she wanted this, wanted Emma, too much to worry about control. She relaxed for the first time in a very, very long time, and let it come.

It was easy, she found, to separate this- whatever this was, with Emma- from what had happened... before. And it was incredibly, almost frighteningly easy to lose herself in Emma Swan. Easier than it had ever been with Pamala Phillipson. With Mal, there was always a layer of memory that remained, a vague fuzz of why she was doing this left over. With Emma, that was quickly deteriorating, and Regina found herself lost in a haze of sensation. The only reason she was with Emma now, she felt, was because she wanted to be.

She whimpered loudly when Emma finally pulled away with a taunting exhalation over wet flesh. The nipple stiffened further as cool air rushed across it, and Emma gave a soft laugh at the sight, feeling her own desire welling ever deeper in her stomach. Leaning in again, she gave a playful nip to that delicate skin, and Regina jolted against her, a frantic yip of pleasure echoing through her room. With a sly smile, Emma decided it wouldn't do to play favorites, and brought her talented lips over to give the other breast equal attention.

Regina's knees began to buckle beneath her, unable to support herself as her body trembled under Emma's touch. With an almost regretful smile, she cupped her hand beneath Emma's chin, drawing the other woman's talented mouth away from her breast. Backing up with the blonde in her arms until her knees hit the bed, she fell back upon it, laying prostrate with her legs dangling over the side of the bed and bringing Emma down on top of her. She could think of other places she wanted that mouth, and said as much with a low groan.

Chuckling at Regina's confession, the blonde remained on her feet bent at the waist above the other woman, looking down at her with obvious intent. "I think I can arrange that," she grinned, hooking her thumbs beneath the matching lace of Regina's underwear. Arching her back to help, Regina reached behind herself and groped for the catch to her crumpled bra, finally succeeding in undoing it and letting it fall out of sight somewhere on her floor. Emma dragged the one remaining garment slowly, tauntingly down toned thighs, getting onto her knees to finally slip the panties away, bringing her at eye-level with the glistening folds of Regina's very, very aroused sex.

Unable to resist leaning in, she placed her hands gently on Regina's sensitive thighs, spreading her apart enough to allow the blonde ample room to settle between them. She exhaled playfully over the heat of Regina's sex, much as she had done to her nipples, and felt the brunette arch and cry out at the tormenting. "Emma!" she groaned, her hands falling to rest with one at the back of Emma's neck while the other once more buried itself in blonde hair.

Deciding that Regina had clearly had enough teasing for now, Emma leaned forward and quickly brought her mouth to the slick folds of Regina's sex. Dark eyes opened wide as Emma ran her tongue up the entire length of her cunt before laving and slipping inside. Emma had clearly done this before, her tongue skilled in alternating between soft, flickering caresses and lingering, broad strokes inside of her. Hips bucking, Regina gasped in wild delight, every movement feeling so utterly divine that it brought her one step closer to feeling whole and perfect again. She'd almost forgotten why she'd needed this in the first place.

Emma was busily burying her face into the soft, cloying wetness, unable to get enough of the glorious taste that was Regina. Every cry, every moan only spurred her on, until finally the quivering of hips and thighs and the panting, ragged breaths began to warn that climax was very, very close. A strangled moan burst its way past Regina's lips as she quivered beneath the blonde so busily suckling and thrusting her tongue deep- wonderfully, achingly deep inside. Every movement was bringing her closer, every flick and flutter of breath on her heated core. Emma's fingers finally came into play, rubbing gently over her lover's extended clitoris and then, teasing, pinching it. The next sound out of Regina's mouth was nearly a scream. She trembled uncontrollably, moaning out Emma's name in a ragged voice.

At last, Emma's tongue and her fingers switched places and, with a growl, Emma claimed Regina's clit with lips and teeth and tongue, fingers slipping inside her deep enough to graze each and every sensitive spot within. Regina tensed, trying to hold off, wanting to last a bit longer. With a smirk, Emma pressed over the rough, sensitive patch within the brunette, and added a third finger.

It was too much for Regina, and Emma knew it. Bucking frantically, Regina finally opened her mouth to her scream, fingers becoming tight enough to pull at the locks of hair, but Emma was not deterred. The touch, the taste, the scent, the feel of Regina coming undone beneath her was too delicious to worry about anything else.

Finally, with a gasping, shaking breath, Regina withdrew her hands from Emma's hair, reaching down to grasp her shoulders and lightly pull the blonde away from her still-spasming core. "Come here," Regina gulped, languid and boneless in that breathless way that comes just after a truly wonderful orgasm.

Smiling at the flushed skin, Emma stilled, licking her lips of the last of Regina's taste. She paused to remove her own bra and panties, finally reveling in being gloriously naked before the other woman. She stalked her way onto the bed, crawling on hands and knees up Regina's body until she was finally on level with parted, breathless lips, and then pressed her own against them once more. They opened for her immediately, and Emma took such delight in claiming them that she almost didn't notice when two tapered fingers slid slowly and stealthily between her legs and into the dripping wet of her cunt.

Almost.

Gasping with surprise into their kiss, she broke away to look down at a decidedly- smug looking Regina. And then with an arching of hips well muscled from years on the pole, Emma found herself rolled and spun until she was on her back looking up at that smirk, Regina's fingers still buried with her. Dark eyes burned down at her, pupils blown wide with desire, and Emma's breath caught in her throat, staring up with wide eyes as Regina's tongue darted out to run over her own kiss-swollen lips. It was sexy as hell but a little disconcerting, like Regina was ogling that which she was about to devour whole.

"Regina..." Emma whispered, her hands running over her lover's chest to rest on her shoulders. She gasped when the two fingers still within her began to move, crossing and uncrossing and somehow slipping deeper into her heat. Groaning, Emma's head fell back against the bed, her back arching to thrust her hips forward, demanding. "God, Regina!" she gasped again, "More." She felt a soft laugh reverberating through her chest, dark and sensual.

Regina's free hand came up to cup her chin, long fingers lightly caressing over the sides of her cheeks. "'More'?" she echoed, amused. "If you insist," she smiled, readjusting so that she was fully straddling the blonde's aching, arching hips. Her fingers pulled out of clenching walls desperate to keep them, only to slam back in a moment later and causing a higher-pitched gasp of need and desire to come spilling out of Emma's mouth.

Regina kept her movements horribly, tauntingly slow, drawing out and then pumping back in with smooth, even movements. With each thrust inside, she slid deep, deep within the blonde, loving the way Emma's inner walls tightened around her as if they never wanted her to leave.

"Regina!" Emma gasped, finally remembering her hands enough to curl them around Regina's shoulders, grasping tightly as she bucked and writhed. With every flick and twist she felt a new slew of sensation building into her, and she spread her legs wider, frantically trying to increase those feelings further still. She was getting close, she knew, but would never fall over the edge of orgasm unless Regina gave her more. "Regina," she whimpered the name this time, locking eyes and pleading with every rock of her hips. "Ple-"

"Don't!" Regina cut her off, growling loudly in her vehemence as her fingers froze within the blonde. Confused, Emma whimpered again, wide-eyed. Regina just shook her head, letting out a long, slow sigh before her fingers began to move again. "...Don't beg," Regina said, softer this time, her free hand reaching out to almost tenderly caress Emma's cheek. She bent down, adjusting her position to allow her to press another kiss to lips parted in question.

Before Emma could even ask it she felt another finger dipping between her folds. She felt Regina's tongue flicking against her lips, and opened them to it, wanting it all, wanting everything. Trembling as her need built within her, she moaned into Regina's mouth, answering the kiss as passionately as she could and wrapping sweat-slick arms around the other woman's neck, desperate for release. As a helpless puppet, Emma arched and writhed, Regina's fingers moving harder and faster inside of her, drawing out another quickly-consumed cry with each and every thrust. Gasping for breath, she continued to meet those wonderfully demanding lips, eagerly accepting Regina's tongue as it danced over every inch of her mouth, laying claim to her.

Regina drank in every cry, loving the taste of them, and finally rose her thumb to circle and then flick the sensitive nub of Emma's clit. Breaking the kiss, she pulled back to watch as ecstasy finally bloomed over Emma's face. The blonde was screaming now, her body nearly unable to cope as a wall of pleasure finally slammed into her, forcing her to convulse and suck in air in greedy, shallow inhales as her mind folded in on itself.

The thrusts continued throughout, Regina somehow needing to ensure that Emma's climax lasted as long as it possibly could. After what seemed like hours, she felt the blonde twitching as she fell away from orgasm. Almost regretfully, Regina slid her fingers out of her lover and drew back, rolling over to the side and watching Emma's chest heave as she fought to catch her breath. Unable to keep from touching her, Regina allowed her fingers to wander over that chest, her fingernails tracing little patterns along skin shining with sweat.

Slowly, Emma felt her mind return to her body, giving a soft groan before she rolled over onto her side. She leaned over, needing the closeness, and smiled as Regina shifted her shoulders to allow Emma to lay against her. She rested there for a moment, relaxing in the calm after her orgasm, allowing her energy to return before twisting to press a small kiss to the corner of Regina's mouth. As she had when this had begun, she kissed down the column of Regina's neck, this time taking a moment to nip just below the curve of her ear. She pulled back a bit, allowing her eyes to run over the naked, flushed skin of her lover. There had been multiple occasions when she'd seen almost this much of Regina before, but it almost seemed that this was the first time she could truly see _her_. "You're beautiful," she murmured, pressing gentle, cooling kisses to the heated skin of her neck.

"So are you."

Emma felt a firm, muscled thigh slip between her legs and groaned at the sensation, feeling her desires already building within her once again. God, this woman could be the death of her, but she arched against her anyway, wanting more. She spread her legs, her own thigh arching to rock against Regina's core, and shifted down to lay her head between her lover's breasts. The motion made it possible to feel so much of Regina against her... the heat of her sex, every quaking rise and fall of her chest. Softly, she moaned into the swell of a warm breast, pressing kisses to flesh that was once again growing stiff under her lips. Her own thigh rocked even harder into Regina, loving the friction building between her thighs.

Regina's hands slipped over her shoulders, fingernails digging into her skin enough to leave crescent-shaped imprints. "Emma..." she moaned out the name, and the blonde pressed harder against her as they rocked together. They kept the motion slow, sometimes deepening the pressure only to ease up again, both of their bodies already quaking and weak from earlier lovemaking. Finally, both releases came together, and they shook and groaned in each other's arms as their cries echoed around the room.

Panting, sweating from exertion, they both finally stilled against one another. Regina sighed contentedly and breathlessly, releasing her hold around Emma's shoulders to pull her lover close against her quaking body."I-" Regina began and then hesitated, unsure even how she wanted to end that sentence.

Smiling, Emma just pressed her lips to the other woman's chest, resting against her as their breath finally evened out together, each causing another shiver from the brunette as Emma's breath teased over her nipples. "I know," Emma sighed. "Me too." Looking up, Emma met the smoldering, pleasured eyes of her lover. She loved how Regina looked right at that moment. Dark hair that was usually so perfect lay spread in wild disarray. Her face flushed, eyes half-lidded, mouth parted in soft pants. Time itself seemed to draw to a standstill, revolving only around that perfect moment. Emma found herself possessed of a burning need to kiss the other woman again, this time perhaps until their very souls had entwined. Before she even realized it, Emma had leaned up to captured the tender softness of Regina's mouth beneath her own.

Seeing the intensity in those green eyes, so full of tenderness and caring and ...salvation, Regina felt a stirring she could not deny shake itself through her core. Fresh, unadulterated desire swept through her senses like a storm, and she met Emma's lips with everything she had. She felt strangely, wonderfully, _finally_ at peace.

A flash of lightning burst behind her eyes when their lips finally touched, and something... _shifted_.

* * *

**…**

* * *

In his office, Gold paused with his hand poised directly over some paperwork, pen hovering, just about sign the document. The pen clattered to the desk, dropped from fingers suddenly shaking. "No," he whispered, the rest of his body as still as if it were frozen.

And then the moment shattered and he burst into action, ripping one of the drawers open so fast that most of the contents spilled out as he tore it out of his desk. The drawer itself hit the floor with a loud thud, and Gold scrambled down onto protesting knees, arm snaking deep into the back of the desk and pulling out the panel behind the discarded drawer.

The noise brought Cora running in, her mouth tightening as she saw her 'boss' fighting with the massive wooden desk. "What the hell are you-?" she began, until her eyes fell on the small yellowing scroll clenched in his hand as Gold emerged from the desk. Red lips dropped open. "No..." she echoed his earlier whisper, striding quickly forward to cover the remaining distance between them as Gold hurriedly spread the small parchment over the surface of his desk.

Before their eyes, the words were changing.

"...It's not possible."

* * *

**…**

* * *

Regina couldn't breathe.

Her chest constricted, sharply, painfully, and a sharp hiss was the only sound she could produce. With a desperate, choking gasp, she thrashed beneath the blonde, pulling away from her lips and clutching at her chest. If felt as though there was a fire burning in her breast, expanding and consuming her from the inside out. Her body thrashed, her mind physically unable to cope or stand a chance against the forces that were now flooding through her body, mind, and soul. Had it allowed her to draw breath, she would have screamed far louder than anything Emma so enjoyed coaxing from her.

"Oh god!" she gasped in shaking, wheezing breaths that had nothing to do with orgasms. She sat up from the bed quickly, gulping in air like it was a stiff drink. "I remember," she wheezed, eyes brimming with sudden tears that dripped in shining lines down her cheeks. "I remember everything."


	11. It Makes the World Go 'Round

**XI: It Makes the World Go 'Round'**

_A/N: I have no words for how long this chapter has taken, save endless amounts of thanks to those of you who still read this story, still favorited it, followed it, and left reviews even though it has taken _months _for me to update. this is a very hard story to write, and your pushing aided incredibly in my continuing it. Don't worry- I'm not giving up on it._

_That said, readers of my other multi-chapter will know that my life has grown increasingly more hectic recently, and updates are going to continue to be sporadic. though not as long as this one took. We're getting close to the climax of this story, and I'm just as eager as you are to get to it. I do hope you enjoy. Drop me a line if you do; I love hearing your comments._

_As always, my unending thanks to my patient beta, killer-elephants._

_~M_

**Trigger Warnings: Allusions to Rape and Incestuous Rape. Nothing Graphic this chapter.**

* * *

**Long ago**

Cora was leaning over her daughter's bassinet, the red ribbons from her gown trailing low over the infant's face. Regina was giggling, catching the ribbons in her pudgy fists and taking a firm hold of them. She tugged them lower before raising them, as all infants do, into her mouth and lightly began to chew on them.

Smiling at the antics of her child, Cora drew the ribbons away, caressing her daughter's face with the backs of her fingers and then lightly flicking one over the tip of her nose. "You should be sleeping now, my love," she murmured quietly.

Regina giggled again at the action. Both of her hands now reached up, stretching out. Wanting. She didn't want to be asleep. She wanted her mama. The young mother looked around herself, as if to ensure that she was truly alone, before lifting the baby out of the bassinet and holding her close to her chest. Her heart was pounding steadily within, a gentle rhythm to lull the baby into sleepiness.

But Regina was having none of it, instead gurgling happily and reaching up again to this time wrap her little fingers around a strand of dark, curling hair. Making a soothing sound of contentment, Cora hoisted the child up a little higher, resting Regina's head on her shoulder and rocking her gently.

"In your arms again?" the high, lilting voice emerged suddenly from the corner of the room, shocking Cora so that she whirled suddenly, her grip on the baby only tightening. Rumpelstiltskin cocked his head, peering at the two ladies in white with a gleam in his eyes.

"Must you always do that?" Cora rebuffed lightly, readjusting Regina slightly on her shoulder.

Rumpel didn't answer, merely coming up next to her and moving to take the baby from Cora's arms. "You hold her too much." He kept Regina at arm's length, almost as if he feared some sort of contamination from the infant. Regina must have thought it all some kind of wonderful new dance or game, and laughed at the sensation, waggling her tiny fingers at him and staring with big, dark eyes. A ray of pure warmth seemed to shoot its way through Rumpelstiltskin.

For a moment, he held the child a little more carefully, brought her just the tiniest bit closer. He almost seemed to smile genuinely, warmth coming back into his eyes for a half second. And then it was over and he was thrusting those emotions away along with the child, setting her back into the bassinet with a scowl before turning to the child's mother. "You know you really shouldn't get too attached to her, dearie. Not with a future as dark as hers."

Cora's arms remained in the same position, as if unable to process yet that she was no longer holding her child. She crossed the distance to the bassinet and looked down longingly at the child squirming amidst the blankets, who was beginning to fuss over the lack of warm arms around her. Her fingers outstretched of their own accord before she pulled them back. "...Must it be?" She asked, quietly, staring down at her daughter. She felt her throat closing over, and took a deep breath.

Rumpel's fingers closed tightly around the very shoulder Regina had just been leaning on, digging his nails into her until she gave a cry and turned obligingly to face him. He held her inches away from his face, sneering at her. "The baby is making you soft. Don't tell me you've lost your will for this, dearie."

She said nothing, merely swallowed to clear the blockage in her throat and stared back, trying to find some of her fire to show him. The baby fussed a little louder, and Cora's head automatically turned towards the sound.

His grip tightened, moving instead to her throat. He gave out a gasp of anger and realization. "You have!"

Cora's eyes had closed, unwilling to let him see the more tangible evidence of her failure. For she knew that's what he would see this as. She took as deep a breath as she could. Not far away, the baby was growing more restless, her slight fussing becoming actual cries as the energy in the room so dramatically shifted. Her mother's eyes snapped back open at the cries, her body shifting ever-so-slightly towards her baby. She stared back at Rumpelstiltskin. "...She's done nothing to deserve it."

Rumpel hissed, releasing his hold on her neck and thrusting her away as if physically disgusted. He laughed, shaking his head at her and pointed at the wriggling child in the bassinet "She was _born _for it!"

Regina's cries grew louder still at the raised voices, and Cora couldn't help but rush to her, turning her back to Rumpelstiltskin and lifting the now wailing child back into her arms, running her hand soothingly over her face. "...I can't. I _won't _do it. My heart won't let me. She's my daughter. Rumpel, she's _our _daughter!"

"Then your heart is no longer doing you a service, dearie."

A gasping, sobbing wheeze of pain slipped from Cora's mouth as Rumpel's hand burst through her back, his fingers cupped around a pulsating heart as he drew it out of her chest.

Outright wails were coming from the baby now, her face contorted and red as her mother shook around her. Slowly, Cora turned to face the Dark One, eyes wide and body near frozen.

In his hand, the heart pulsed desperately. Rumpel's face was contorted, nearly unreadable with the level of emotion on his features. He drew in a ragged breath of his own, and pointed at the baby with his free hand. "Put her down, and come here."

Wordlessly, Cora glanced down at her child, her mouth gaping like a fish out of water. Tears dripped onto the baby's screaming head.

And then Regina was back in the bassinet and left alone, screaming and gasping for breath around her own tears.

* * *

**...**

* * *

**Present**

In front of her, Emma's face furrowed from a look of desire to one of concern. She sat up quickly, running a soothing hand tentatively down Regina's shoulders. "Hey. You okay?"

She'd half-expected a semi-violent reaction to their coupling, once the initial haze of pleasure had worn off enough that forgetting what had been done to Regina would come flying back at her. True, she hadn't quite expected _this _visceral a reaction, but it was understandable, anyway. "It's okay," she murmured gently. It wasn't, but she pressed her lips to the sweat-slicked shoulder in front of her anyway, letting Regina know that it might not be okay, but at least she wasn't alone.

Flashing bits of memories were wreaking havoc with Regina's mind. Everything was jumbled together, only coming in bits and pieces as she sat, shaking, on the bed. With a laughing huff, Regina shook her head, tears pouring down her face. "It's not," she whispered, a look of abject horror growing over the course of her face. "Oh, _gods, _it's not."

Brow furrowing in confusion, Emma felt her arms wrapping around the brunette protectively, as if of their own accord "Hey," she whispered, pressing further kisses along a toned and muscular back, because it was all she knew to do. Emma Swan wasn't exactly well-versed in calming people down. "I'm here."

"I know," Regina murmured quietly, small tremors still working their way down her body as she adjusted to memories all trying to force their way into her mind at once. It was too much to deal with. She closed her eyes, trying to squeeze the images out of her mind. It had rather the opposite effect, and she brought her hand to mouth in attempt to muffle herself when she started screaming, tears dripping down her face.

"Hey," Emma said again, putting more pressure on the brunette's arm and trying to turn her to face her. "Regina. Regina, look at me."

Slowly, Regina turned tear-filled eyes on the blonde. Without a word, she pulled Emma closer to her, close enough to wrap her arms around her and bury her face in her hair. "Gods, Emma... He-" her voice broke, and she tried again. "_She_-" She shook her head, feeling panic building in ever muscle of her body. How the hell could she even try to explain what was happening to her? She looked again into green eyes and tried to sink into them. Her world was literally turning upside down, but those eyes remained steady. She clung to Emma, struggling to breathe yet again. "I feel like I'm going crazy."

Unsure what to do or how to do it, Emma just held the sobbing brunette awkwardly. How exactly do you tell someone that it's going to be okay when they're recovering from systemic rape and abuse? She didn't know. But she knew that at one point of her life, she'd have given anything if someone had been there to hold _her. _That was probably the only reason she wasn't bolting out of the window right now. Despite all the manipulation, she liked Regina well enough, and the sex had certainly been awesome, but this was getting way too 'feely' for her. For now, she just swallowed back the urge to run and lightly patted Regina's hair**, **hoping that she could steer events into something more known. She placed another series of kisses along the brunette's hairline, pulling back to kiss cheeks and eyelids stained with tears.

In a previous life, the one whose memories were fast driving her towards insanity, Regina would have destroyed something or ripped the heart out of someone in attempt to get rid of these feelings. Now, she stuck with what had worked before in _this_ life, and sunk into Emma's embrace, pulling the blonde even closer and clashing their lips together again. Her hands slid over her shoulders, holding on tightly.

Giving a muffled squeak of surprise, Emma nevertheless returned the kiss eagerly. This is what she'd agreed to do, after all: help Regina forget, at least for a little while. And if Regina needed another round or two... well, she'd just have to oblige.

**...**

Kneeling between Regina's spread legs, Emma paused to look up, to double-check with her lover that this was good, that this was needed. She found brown eyes already staring down at her, red lips parted from emitting the small noises of pleasure that had emerged as the blonde had worked her way down. Staring up at her lover, Emma felt her eyes hood as her desire for the brunette returned with a vengeance.

"Emma," Regina whispered, starting to say something- to beg her to continue or ask a question, even she didn't know.

But the next moment had talented lips kissing over her heat with soft, deep warmth, and her words died before having been given life. Emma breathed her in, not licking, just feeling, lips sliding over wetness with the softest of caresses.

Regina gasped and her eyes tried to flutter closed, but Emma's fingers suddenly dug into her firm buttocks, causing her eyes to fly open again with surprise. All the pain she was feeling, all the confusion, hate, and other emotions she had no words to give voice to– blazed from brown eyes into green, dissipating the more she looked into caring green warmth. And Regina knew that she needed to keep that link open lest she be torn apart by her own mind. Emma met her gaze evenly, her lips and tongue beginning to caress again, continuously stroking and nibbling and lightly sucking the outer, then inner, lips of her heat.

Regina's eyes went wide as pleasure overran her senses, drowning out everything else. A strange light was taking hold of her as she stared at the blonde.

The depth of emotion in her eyes was startling to Emma, though there was nothing in them that she felt she could identify. She could only continue with curious, tentative licks, a smooth flick with the flat of her tongue, dragging and wiggling ever so slightly.

Lithe fingers tightened in blonde hair, and the brunette moaned deeply. Loud enough, she hoped, to keep her returning memories at bay just a little longer. "Don't stop," she whispered, keeping her eyes locked on the one thing that was giving her any peace.

Warm lips stroked and tasted, the blonde's tongue slowly, lingeringly beginning to explore over the other woman's folds.

"Emma," Regina breathed.

Finding her own arousal spiking madly at the use of her name, Emma's fingers slipped up higher, resting just over the brunette's hipbones and rubbing in slow, gentle circles. Groaning softly as fingertips began to massage over her, Regina relaxed, sinking into the lull of good sex and her bed, her hands tugging on blonde locks to pull Emma even closer.

Shuddering, Emma slurped a little noisily, keeping her eyes locked on those above and feeling another thrill run down her spine when Regina whimpered out her name again. Every movement brought about another moan, another small gasp. Regina's hips were rocking into Emma's mouth, and so she truly began to devour, unable to get enough. Her tongue flitted over the hard nub of Regina's clit constantly. She moved to straddle a muscled leg, allowing her own wet core to rock against the brunette. She felt as though she could do this forever, and that Regina may well have not minded one bit.

Neither seemed to blink the entire time, Emma's lips and teeth and tongue wreaking havoc over Regina, bringing her to the very edge of release, until Regina simply could not take anymore. Emma felt her own pleasure not far behind, and she rocked more fervently against Regina's thigh, suddenly feeling it imperative that they come together.

"Ah! Emma... Emma!" Regina cried out, long and high. Her head arched back, their locked gaze finally breaking as both of them were swept under. Hips quivered throughout, and Emma was forced to break away and take in a gulping, needy breath, until they both finally relaxed, limp and spent in one another's arms.

The very moment their gaze broke, a flash of memory burst behind dark eyes, brighter than all the others vying for attention, too powerful to ignore. _Snow- beautiful, pained, tragic Snow- looked up at her with plaintive eyes as she cradled her dying husband. "Why did you do this?"_

_She took absolute delight in bending down, the force of her vitriol causing the vein on her head to throb. "Because this is my happy ending." At the door, two of her regrettably necessary guards slowly drew to a halt. She didn't even look up before demanding of them: "The child?"_

_Even through the black of his face mask, the guard looked uncomfortable. "...Gone. It was in the wardrobe, and then it was gone. It's nowhere to be found."_

_Bristling, Regina turned to the girl she detested above all else, her perfect moment of happiness pulled apart."Where is she?"_

_Snow's relief was practically palpable. "She got away." She caressed the face of her husband, cradling him all the more and repeating, as if just to him. "…Emma. She got away." Her face raised back to Regina. "... You're going to lose. I know that now. Good will always win."_

"_We'll see about that," Regina snarled, but still grinned. Her plan was working. And she would win, no matter what the simpering girl at her feet said. No matter if this baby- this Emma- had escaped her._

Regina slammed back into her own conscious mind with a shudder, the aftershocks of her orgasm pulsing through her like a tide. "Emma..." The name echoed around the room, repeated over and over in breathless tones- a mantra Regina had offered to whoever would listen.

And then the name she was whispering came back down, barreling through her memories like a freight train, and she realized where she'd heard the name before. She felt her eyes snap wide open, bucking frantically. "Emma!" she shouted again, growing hysterical. "Oh, gods, you're _Emma!_"

Above her, the blonde let out a gasp of shock as her own post-coital bliss was fractured when Regina suddenly began to frantically kick her away. Blinking at the sudden change, she glanced into dark eyes once again filling with panic. "What?"

Regina's mind had very quickly decided she'd had enough. No longer bits and pieces, now, the rest of her memories pummeled into her with all the grace of a sledgehammer, leaving her reeling and able only to process one thing: Snow White's daughter was in her bed, and she had just fucked her quite contentedly. On some level, she was sure, a not insignificant part of her was incredibly pleased with this development. The rest of her was in a full out panic attack. Sitting up so fast that the blonde practically spilled off of her, she promptly backed up so quickly she fell off the bed, landing flat on her ass, her body still flushed from the throes of their last round.

"Regina! Talk to me! What's wrong?"

"I just... with you!" She was scrambling, now, frantically scooping up bits of clothing as throwing them onto her body as fast as she could.

Emma had had her share of sexual encounters that she'd later regretted, sure, but not generally when she was sober. And not generally four times in a row. But here Regina was acting as if she'd suddenly realized Emma had the plague. She had no real choice but to slip back into her jeans and tank and try to calm the older woman down. "Regina, will you calm the fuck down and talk to me?!"

But she wasn't listening. She managed to draw a full breath, and then looked even more panicked, as if some new horror had just occurred to her. It had. Another burst of memory clamped down hard on her mind, and she realized she had far more to worry about that whatever she'd done with Snow's daughter. Rumpel. Always, ever Rumpel: laughing at her, taunting her, teaching her. Molding her into doing exactly what he wanted of her.

Even here. Even with...

"Henry... where's Henry?!" She rushed to get the rest of her clothes on, darting out of her bedroom door and fumbling in her haste to get to her keys, leaving Emma to scramble after her, still pulling on her pants and trying desperately to figure out what the hell was going on.

"Henry? What about Henry?" Emma had no choice but to follow. In this state, Regina could hurt someone. Or herself. "Where the hell are you going?!""To get my son!" Regina hissed back with a snarl, running out of the door without locking it and racing to her car, starting it and putting it into drive all in a flurry of strength of vitriol in her tone was enough to cause Emma's mouth to gape open. She barreled after her, running up to the backing-up car and screaming at the top of her lungs**, **"Regina, what the hell is wrong with you?!" But the dark car sped away with a screeching of tires. Swearing, the blonde dug into the pocket of her jacket for her own keys and prayed to god her bug would start on its first try. She needed to follow Regina. Like hell she was going to let the other woman go anywhere alone right now.

**...**

Emma would never fully understand how they'd gotten there without Regina wrecking. The woman had driven like she'd been possessed- like she'd somehow forgotten everything she'd ever learned about driving only to remember it a split second later. And soon, faster than any sane person would drive, they'd arrived at Henry's castle, and Regina was out of the car running towards him before even turning off the engine.

Only a moment later, the yellow bug pulled up behind.

Henry bounded down the aged stairs to his mothers with a worried look on his face. Something big must be happening if both of them were here to get him. "Moms?" he asked worriedly, looking from one to the other, taking in their haphazard states of dress and the wild look in Regina's eyes.

"Henry, be careful!" Emma called. "Something's... wrong?" She broke off in a question, because as soon as Regina laid eyes on the boy she seemed to instantly calm. Her entire energy and body language ...shifted.

Noticing it, too, Henry ran to her in spite of Emma's warning, and Regina swept him up into a hug, clutching him tightly to her as if she was never going to let him go again. "Oh, Henry," she sighed.

Emma came up to them slowly, a question in her eyes and a furrow in her brow. Gingerly, she placed a hand on Regina's shoulder. "...Regina? Are you okay?"

Dark eyes broke away from her son, and she set him back on the ground, kneeling on the grass so as to be able to keep the boy close to her. She looked at Emma-really looked- and took a deep, centering breath. Her memories were finally beginning to settle within her, allowing her brain a respite as long as she held her son. She looked at Emma- at the Savior. Snow's daughter. And she realized that for the first time in all of her collected memories, she no longer cared about Snow. Snow didn't matter, not compared to other, far more important things.

Like Henry.

"I'm fine," she sighed, brushing strands of hair from her son's face. "Henry," she murmured, running her fingers down his cheeks. "I love you so, so much." With tears in her eyes, she smiled- a true, bright smile. Her shoulder now boasted both Emma's hand and Henry's head as he leaned into her. Regina felt a wave of pure, unadulterated joy crash through her.

"I love you, too, Mom." He returned the hug with equal abandon, leaning up to press a kiss to his mother's cheek. She beamed all the brighter for it. Even concerned as she still was, Emma smiled, and squeezed Regina's shoulder affectionately. Her other hand ruffled the hair of their son, mussing up the order Regina had just returned to it. The former Evil Queen found that she couldn't care.

In town, the clock gave a chime. And then the very earth beneath their feet began to quiver.

* * *

**...**

* * *

**Elsewhere**

"This is ridiculous!" Maleficent was screaming, hands on her hips as she paced behind the bar. "You don't even know that this is going to work, do you?!"

Closing her eyes and inhaling deeply, Blue threw her head back and drained the drink in front of her, setting the empty glass down with a pointed look. "Can I get another, please?"

Snarling, the blonde took the glass in hand and hurled it against the far wall. It shattered in a spectacular spray of glass, littering the floor of the club.

Blue rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to help you clean that up."

With a snarl loud and angry enough to evoke the other form Maleficent had once been so fond of, she pounced over the bar, landing only inches in front of the former fairy. Her hand whipped out, curling around Blue's throat. For the first time, the fairy betrayed an emotion other than 'know-it-all,' and her eyes went wide, fingers scrambling for the hand around her throat.

"Tell me honestly, _fairy,_" Maleficent spat, clenching her hand a little tighter**, **just for good measure. "Do you have any idea how we'll even know if this works?"

Blue's face was beginning to turn a slight shade of her name as she struggled for breath. "If the curse breaks-" she gasped.

Mal shook her, releasing her grip only slightly. "What if it doesn't? What if only _Regina's _memory returns? You know that's a possibility. However good a fuck the savior might be, we both know that it's unlikely they'll have admitted to loving one another yet. And only True, requited Love can break this damn thing, as you've reminded me so damn often!"

The fairy's mouth was flapping open, trying to form words or get oxygen into her lungs**, **but succeeding at neither. Rolling her eyes, Maleficent released her with a flourish, flinging the blue creature away from her.

"We have to have faith," Blue managed to wheeze, massaging her neck.

"In your precious Savior?" the blonde scoffed.

Blue shook her head. "No. In Regina." She tried very hard not to show her own distaste at the idea. She tossed a guarded look at her companion. "Tell me that you can do _that _much, at least."

A moment passed before Maleficent slowly nodded, agreeing, for once, with the fairy.

Beneath their feet, the very earth itself seemed to tremble at the idea. "It's beginning!" Blue cried, leaping away from the bar.

"Finally!" Maleficent agreed, and joined her beside the immense marble surface she'd spent so much time behind. "Let's get started."

Together, fairy and witch pressed their hands against the side of bar, and pushed. It resisted for a moment, before slowly, creakily, beginning to give way. The great marble fixture began to slide along runners long out of use, revealing a cobweb-covered stairwell.

Somewhere beyond it, a long-forgotten heart was beating. And glowing.


End file.
